Scenes of Trust
by stickdonkey
Summary: Before the events of Trust Me But Don't Thank Me Yet Fili, Kili and Thorin were a happy close-knit family living in the Blue Mountains. This story is a look into their lives before the events and trials of the quest came between them. Will contain cute dwarflings and family fluff with an undercurrent of angst that will eventually catch up to and lead into TMBDTMY. Can stand alone.
1. Chapter 1

**Here we are all. . . I know that I should NOT be starting something new but *shrugs* it happens. The plot bunny hits and who am I do deny it? Besides, so many of you asked to see more of the Durin family (sans incest) from me so I decided to give you what you asked for. This is the backstory for Trust Me but Don't Thank Me Yet. It CAN stand alone and for many of you it will, I'll bet. There will be LESS angst here than in the other, but there will still be some. I'm still me, after all. I hope that you enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and make no claim to.**

**ooOO88OOoo**

Thorin sighed as he sat in the small kitchen that he shared with his sister and tried to ignore Dís' agonized cries as she brought the youngest of their line into the world. He hated it. While he knew that what she gained from it would be worth it in her mind he could not stand to hear his sister in pain and sit there helplessly. But even were he to bust down the door it was not as if he could do anything to aid her. He placed his head in his hands and prayed that it would at least be a short labor.

"Uncle?" a small voice asked and he flinched away from the small hand on his arm. Instead he lifted his head and looked into the crystalline blue eyes of his tiny nephew.

"Is . . . is Mama going to go away like Papa did?" Fíli asked with tears in his eyes. "Is she going to leave us and not come back no more?" Thorin's heart broke for the little lad. He hadn't realized that his nephew would draw parallels between his father's death and his brother's birth. But he supposed that it would make sense. The boy had been sequestered in this same room while Óin fought to save his life in the very room that Dís' cries were coming from now.

"No, lad," Thorin whispered as he gathered his small nephew into his lap. "She isn't going anywhere. She's bringing someone else to us. Your mother is bringing your brother into the world."

"A brother?" Fíli asked with wide eyes.

"Most likely," Thorin said with a smile. "I suppose that it could be a sister but is will most likely be a brother."

"Then why is she . . . " he couldn't seem to find the words to describe what his mother was doing but a pained scream from Dís filled the space and made it unnecessary.

"That is the way these things are," Thorin replied. "It was the same with you. And she survived that."

"It's where I come from?" Fíli asked in the innocent way of a child.

"Yes, lad," Thorin replied sadly as the memories came back to him. "It's where you came from."

_He had sat in the same kitchen with Gíli—Dís' late-husband—while Dís labored to bring his son into the world. It had been a nerve-wracking evening but eventually Dís' screams subsided and they heard intead the wailing of a child. Only moments later, a midwife emerged carrying a squirming bundle of blankets that she set into Gíli's waiting arms._

_Thorin watched as the blonde dwarf's green eyes widened and his face lit with wonder at the sight of the small dwarfling in his arms. "Thorin," he had breathed, "you have to see him. He's beautiful. Dís . . . she did a wonderful job." Gíli had taken a step towards him and bent to allow his seated brother-in-law to gaze into the bundle. Thorin felt his heart sink. The sleeping babe had a full head of golden hair . . . the same color as Frerin's had been. _

_With a hand that shook he reached out and gently touched the downy hair. "He's blonde," Thorin breathed. _

"_Amazing, isn't it?" Gíli beamed, unable to see Thorin's pain through his own elation. "I never thought that he would be blonde, not with you and Dís having such dark hair. I hoped for light brown at the most but . . . he's blonde!"_

"_My . . . my brother was a blonde," Thorin managed to say. "Nearly the same shade. I wonder what color his eyes will be." He looked at his brother-in-law and felt a sudden vehement desire that the boy would take after his father when it came to his eyes. He wasn't sure that he could endure it if the boy had Frerin and Dís' eyes. _

_Almost as if the lad had heard his question, his eyes opened and though their gaze was unfocused, Thorin was both shocked and pleased to see crystalline blue eyes staring out from his tiny red face. _

"_Blue!" Gíli had crowed. "His eyes will be blue."_

"_It is not guaranteed," Thorin said with a smile. He had forgotten that Gíli was the youngest of his siblings and had never been around children this small before. "Dís' eyes were blue when she was born. They slowly darkened as she grew older. We won't know if they will remain blue for a few months." _

"_I hope they do," Gíli said smiling down at his newborn son. "They truly are quite striking." Thorin said nothing as Gíli turned and walked into the room his wife was in but he could only hope the same. The lad's eyes __**had**__ to remain blue. His sanity demanded it._

He was pulled out of his memories by a sharp tug on one of his braids. He looked down in shock to see Fíli was still in his lap. The blue eyes he had looked into five years ago staring into his own as the boy wiped a tear from Thorin's cheek that he hadn't realized was there.

"Uncle," Fíli mumbled holding up the tear for him to see.

"It's nothing, Fíli," Thorin replied looking away. Before the boy could argue there was a high-pitched wail from the other room, a cry too high-pitched to have been made by Dís, followed by the more standard cries of a babe.

"Come," Thorin said shifting Fíli to the floor, "You have a brother to meet." While they would not go into the birthing room until they were invited, Thorin and Fíli moved into the hallway that led to Dís' room to wait for the midwife to bring out the newest member of their family. She soon emerged, a bundle of blankets in her arms. It was the same woman that had delivered Fíli and Thorin held his breath as he took the child from her.

"A boy," she said with a smile. "Another strong lad for the line of Durin, my King." Thorin nodded to her as he gently uncovered the child's head. He breathed a sigh of relief as he was met with a head of chestnut hair the same shade as Dís'.

"What is his name?" Thorin asked. "I am sure that Dís had one chosen."

"Kíli," the midwife replied. "She named him Kíli."

"May we . . . "

"It might be best to let her rest," the midwife said slowly. "I am sorry, my King. I just fear that you _and_ the lad . . ."

"Do not worry," Thorin assured her. "I will just introduce Kíli to his brother and you can take him back to his mother." She nodded and Thorin knelt to allow his five-year-old nephew to peer into the bundle in his arms. Fíli looked at the baby and then up at Thorin.

"He doesn't look like me," Fíli said simply. "He's all . . . red."

Thorin had to laugh. That was nearly what he had said about his own brother. "He is," The king agreed. "But that will fade. He may never look like you, however. You took more after your father"—_and my brother_, Thorin though—"and from the looks of it, Kíli will take after your mother. He may have your eyes. Our eyes."

"I hope so," Fíli said with a small frown. "If he's mine I want people to be able to know it."

"They'll know it, lad," Thorin replied with a smile. "It won't matter if you match. They'll know. Would you like to hold him?" Fíli nodded and Thorin gently placed the baby into his nephew's arms, keeping his own hands on Fíli's small arms to aid him in supporting the weight and insure that he would not drop his brother. As soon as Fíli touched him, Kíli's eyes flew open. They were a deep blue and Thorin knew at that moment that they would darken to brown before he was grown. He only hoped that Fíli would not be too disappointed.

Seconds after they had opened, Kíli's eyes closed once more and his face screwed up. Thorin flinched knowing what was coming before it happened. Suddenly Kíli's piercing wail filled the air and Fíli rapidly pulled his arms free to cover his ears.

"He's loud!" Fíli complained as Thorin handed Kíli back to the midwife to be returned to Dís.

"Aye," Thorin agreed. "And he will only get louder. You'd best get used to it, lad." He didn't miss the way his nephew's lips twisted in thought as he watched the midwife leave with his brother. Though Thorin didn't ask, he wondered what it was that Fíli was thinking. He only hoped that his nephew would not be overly jealous of his baby brother.

**ooOO88OOoo**

Thorin needn't have worried. While Fíli was a bit jealous in the first few days when it seemed that the entirety of Ered Luin filed through their little home to get a glimpse of Thorin's second heir, it soon faded. All of their visitors took time to speak kind words to Fíli, or to ruffle his hair or to tell of their memories of the births of their own siblings. Fíli was soon beaming under the praise and sitting on the bed next to his mother and Kíli and petting his baby brother gently. It was then that Thorin knew that they would be fine.

It was a certainty that was only solidified when Kíli began to grow and focus on things. His favorite thing in the world to look at was Fíli's golden hair. While he would look at the bits of sliver holding his mother's braids or Thorin's, it was Fíli's hair that he reached for. When Kíli began to totter around, it was not his mother's skirts that he clung to, but rather his brother's arm. If Fíli went somewhere, Kíli was behind him, first on legs that wobbled and then on more steady feet.

By the time Kíli was a year old, Thorin knew that he had been correct: Kíli had Dís' eyes. It saddened him to see how little of Gíli was in his youngest nephew. He knew that it hurt Dís, but he couldn't help but be thankful. Seeing Kíli was like looking into a window to the past and seeing Dís at that age. Just as watching Fíli was like seeing Frerin as a child again. He hadn't realized just how much they looked alike until Fíli began to grow. As a baby, the similarities could be overlooked. All babies looked similar up to a point … but the larger he grew, the more Thorin saw it. And while Fíli still looked at him with love and devotion, he knew how quickly that could change.

**ooOO88OOoo**

**There we are all, first chapter of this one. I'm not sure what kind of update schedule it will have. . . I will try to keep up with it :) Is it worth the effort to add to? So, what did you think? I would love to hear it (even if you hated it!) **

**Stickdonkeys**


	2. Chapter 2

Despite Thorin's fears, even as Fíli grew he never looked at his uncle with anything less than love. Even so, Thorin knew that it was a possibility that he one day would. Frerin had always looked at him with love when they were children. Watching his nephews together was both a blessing and a curse. It made him smile to see them so happy, so carefree. It had been a difficult thing to accomplish, but he was truly proud of the home that he had managed to make for them in Ered Luin that had enabled them to grow up so slowly.

He, Dís and Frerin . . . they had been denied that opportunity. The sacking of Erebor . . . it had forced them to grow up too quickly. Thorin had only been twenty-three, Frerin eighteen and Dís . . . she was only nine. There hadn't been much time for childhood after the fall. Food had been too short, the road too dangerous, the memories of death and smoke and terror too fresh. They had all grown up too quickly. He vowed that he would not allow that to happen to his nephews. They would be children as long as possible.

The day that Kíli greeted him at the door without Fíli, like all things involving the boys, made him both proud and made his heart hurt. They were growing so quickly. It seemed like only yesterday that the lad had been handed to him as a squirming bundle of blankets. Thorin smiled tiredly down at the little dark-haired dwarfling.

"Hello Kíli," He said kneeling down to scoop his nephew up into his arms as he headed towards the kitchen from where he could smell Dís' cooking wafting through the home. "What have you been up to today? Causing mischief and giving your mother grey hair?"

"I do _not_ have grey hair, Thorin," Dís snapped from the kitchen.

"Then what is this, then?" He asked with a laugh as he pulled gently on one of her loose hairs. She turned her head, panic in her eyes and looked at the hair that he held. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it was a dark hair. She glared at him but couldn't stay mad at her brother when there was such joy in his eyes. At one time she had despaired of _ever_ seeing Thorin smile. She knew that her boys had more to do with it than she did but she couldn't help but be pleased at her hand in it.

"Oh you!" she huffed, swatting his hand and pretending to be indignant at his joke. "Why do you do these things to me, Thorin?" He shrugged as was about to tell her that he was only doing it to keep her from becoming too vain when he was interrupted.

"Torn," a high, childish voice chirped from his arms. They both looked at Kíli in surprise. He smiled up at them, his brown eyes sparking with his pride at being able to get his beloved uncle's attention. "Torn," he repeated.

"Is that . . ." Thorin began hesitantly. "Is he . . . was that _my_ name?" He couldn't stop the smile that crossed his face at the thought that one of Kíli's first words had been his name. He looked at his sister and she smiled at him.

Dís was pleased with the shock on her brother's face. It was an expression that she had never seen before, for a good reason anyway. She didn't have the heart to tell him that Kíli had been babbling all day and had already called both her and Fíli by a mangled version of their names. It didn't matter if they were slightly mangled. Ma was close enough to Amad and Fee was close enough to Fíli that they knew who he had been speaking too.

"I believe it was," Dís replied with a warm smile for her youngest. "Was it, my darling Kíli? Were you trying to get your grouchy old Uncle Thorin's attention?" Kíli nodded before grabbing one of Thorin's braids and giving it a tug.

"Torn! Torn!" he called happily, a bright laugh bubbling up his lips. Thorin's deep laugh soon joined it and he lightly tossed Kíli into the air, causing a loud squeal of laughter to come from the small child before he was caught and brought back against Thorin into a hug.

"You have my attention, little one," Thorin promised, nuzzling Kíli's soft hair. "As long as you still want it." He led Kíli tightly a moment longer before he loosed his hold and moved his nephew back to his hip.

"So," he asked, turning to his attention to his sister once more only to glance back at Kíli with a wry smile when the incorrigible little lad called "Torn!" once more, "where's Fíli? These two are usually like little shadows of one another. Why do I just have one of them clinging to me now?" He regretted his question because as soon as he asked it Dís' smile fell away.

"Fíli's in their room," she replied, a hint of anger in her eyes. Thorin didn't understand it. Fíli was Dís' favorite. He rarely did anything to anger her, his resemblance to her late husband buying him more leeway than she gave any other.

"What did he do?" he asked warily. If it was enough to upset Dís to the point that she confined him to his quarters . . . it had to be bad.

"Which time?" Dís asked with a sigh. "He had been . . . today was bad. I nearly lost my temper with him, Thorin. I wasn't actually mad at him," she said, tears filling her eyes as she relived what had happened that day. "I . . . he . . . he fell. I was just _so_ terrified. And I . . . I yelled at him. He was hurt and scared and I . . . I _yelled _at him. I . . . I don't know what came over me. I just . . . I heard him scream and then . . . when I got outside . . . there he was, under the tree just _sprawled _there and instead of scooping him into my arms I yelled at him. All I could see . . . all I could _think_ was what would have happened if he had only climbed a little higher before he fell . . . I was just so _terrified_. I can't lose him, Thorin. I can't lose either of them. My heart would not survive it. I—"

"Hush," Thorin whispered pulling Dís to him and hugging her with the arm that was not around Kíli. "You won't lose them, Dís. I swear it. They will not leave you before their time." _Not like everyone else has_, he thought bitterly. She sobbed into his shoulder at what had happened between her and her eldest son that day.

"Thorin," she asked, pulling back at to look at him with tear-filled brown eyes and worrying her lip with her teeth, "what do I do? How do I . . . how do I explain to him why I was upset? How do I tell him that I only yelled at him because I love him _so _much and that I can't bear the _thought_ of losing him?"

"You tell him just that, Dís," Thorin replied with a sad smile. "He's a smart lad and he loves you. He will accept your apology." _For now,_ he finished mentally. "But if you'd like, I can go and talk to him first."

"I'd like that," Dís replied taking Kíli from his uncle before turning back to the stove. "I just need to warm up dinner. See if you can get him to come to the table. He told me that he was never coming out of his room again." Thorin nodded and moved towards the boys' room with a deep sigh. He only hoped that he was up to the task that Dís had given him.

**ooOO88OOoo**

Fíli was sitting on his bed glaring at the wall. He couldn't believe his mother. It wasn't as if he had _meant_ to fall out of the tree. He hadn't _meant_ to fall out and hurt himself. As the thought washed through his mind tears prickled his eyes at the memory of his mother standing above him a yelling. He had never heard her yell before . . . and for the first time he heard it to be at him . . . it hurt.

She hadn't even looked at him to see if he was hurt. She hadn't even asked why he had climbed it in the first place. She hadn't cared. She had just been so angry. As he stormed off, he even thought that he saw tears in her eyes but he knew that that couldn't be true. Real dwarves did not cry. His mother, his uncle they were real dwarves. She hadn't been crying. With that vicious thought, he reached up to wipe away his tears, wincing as the fresh scrapes on the palms of his hands from where the bark had scraped him as he fell protested the movement.

HE jumped slightly as he heard a quiet knock on the door. There was only a moment's delay before the door opened and his uncle poked his head inside.

"Hello Fíli," Thorin said quietly. He sighed when his nephew didn't respond other than to look up at him with sad blue eyes. "May I come in?" Fíli sighed and looked away, which Thorin took as an invitation. He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him and move over to sit next to Fíli on his bed.

"So," Thorin said trying to figure out how to broach the subject with his nephew. "I hear that you had a bit of a . . . an adventure with the tree in the yard today." Fíli said nothing but he gave a small sniffle. Not only had his mother yelled at him for falling out of the tree but he knew that she had sent his uncle in to scold him as well. A treacherous tear crept down his cheek at the thought. He couldn't stand the idea that they would both be angry with him. Fíli flinched as he felt Thorin's calloused finger gently wipe the tear away.

Thorin swallowed down his pain at Fíli's flinch. Did the boy truly think that he would punish him for falling from a tree?

"Are you injured?" Thorin asked gently. Fíli looked up at him in shock, his blue eyes filling with tears once more. His heart fell as Fíli's face crumpled and he nodded. "Let me see, lad," Thorin ordered gently. Fíli swallowed before he held up his hands and showed his uncle his bloodied palms. Thorin took his nephew's small hands in his own and leaned down to inspect the scrapes. They didn't appear too deep.

"Stay here," Thorin whispered standing and going to the dresser and pouring some water from the pitcher there onto a cloth before coming back to Fíli's side. "This may hurt a bit, Fíli," Thorin cautioned. "However I must clean these scrapes." Fíli flinched as the cloth was gently passed over the wounds, but he did not cry out or pull away. It only took a moment to wipe away the blood. And Thorin breathed a sigh of relief: they were only shallow and would do no lasting damage.

"Will you tell me why you were in the tree?" Fíli looked up at his uncle's question, hope and love burning in his eyes. "It is a very strange place for a young dwarf to be. Dwarves don't climb trees, lad." The admonition was gentle but he saw some of the hope dim in Fíli's eyes before he looked away. It broke Thorin's heart to have lost even that little bit of hope from Fíli.

"I . . . I climbed the tree because . . . " Fíli began hesitantly. He wanted to tell his uncle why he had done it but he didn't want to at the same time. He was worried that Kíli would be in trouble for it as well if he was to tell what had happened. But his uncle was looking down at him, his blue eyes soft and expectant and Fíli couldn't _not_ tell him. He couldn't let his uncle believe that he had done something undwarfly without cause.

"Kíli's ball," Fíli explained looking away, "it was in the tree. I climbed up to get it down and when I reached for it . . . my hand slipped and . . ."

"And you fell," Thorin finished with a sigh. It made much more sense to him now. Fíli was a smart lad and Thorin hadn't been able to understand what had possessed him to climb that tree. Fíli nodded. "Are these your only injuries or . . ."

"My back hurts," Fíli replied, his eyebrows drawing together. He looked at his uncle sadly as Thorin nodded.

"Let me take a look at it," Thorin sighed and helped Fíli to remove his shirt. There was a bruise where his upper back had hit the ground, but there was no blood and nothing was broken. "It's not that bad," Thorin offered. "I'll get some salve from the kitchen and . . . it'll help." He stood to go through with his promise but was stopped by Fíli's quiet voice.

"Uncle?" Fíli said warily, not sure if he wanted the answer to the question that he intended to answer. He nearly lost his nerve when his uncle turned back to look at him. The gentleness in his eyes was almost painful when he compared it to the anger that had been in his mother's.

"Is mother . . . does she . . . does she hate me? Because I climbed the tree?" Fíli asked, his eyes filling with tears once more. Thorin shoulders slumped in defeat and he walked back to his nephew before scooping the child into his arms and leaning against the wall. Fíli's small hands grasped desperately at his shirt and his eyes looked up at Thorin with such hope that Thorin felt his heart stop. He knew that he wasn't deserving of such pure hope. Instead of looking into his nephew's eyes, he pulled Fíli's head gently against his chest and pressed a kiss to his blonde hair.

"No," Thorin breathed against Fíli's hair. "She doesn't hate you. She could _never_ hate you."

"She was so angry with me," Fíli sobbed, burrowing more firmly into his uncle's chest. "She . . . she _yelled_ at me, Uncle. She's never done that before. And she . . . " He couldn't bring himself to explain the look in his mother's eyes to his uncle. It was too painful.

"She yelled at you because she was terrified _for_ you," Thorin explained. "She . . . you and Kíli, you're all that she has left in this world. She . . . she only yelled because she was afraid that she had almost lost you." Fíli was very still for a moment and Thorin moved him away slightly so that he could see his nephew's face. If it hadn't been such a serious situation he would have laughed at the intense look of concentration that was on his young face.

"You're wrong," Fíli said suddenly. "I'm sorry, Uncle, but you are wrong."

"I don't believe so, lad," Thorin replied with a small smile. "Your mother loves you and your brother more than anything in this world."

"That's not what I mean," Fíli argued resting his head back on Thorin's shoulder and tangling his fingers in his uncle's hair. "I mean that we're not all she has. She has you too. Right?" Again, Thorin felt a warm smile cross his face. He only wished that he could see things as innocently as Fíli was capable of. Things seemed so much simpler through his eyes.

"That's right, lad," Thorin agreed. "She has me too. You and Kíli do too, you know."

"I know, Uncle," Fíli replied with a contented sigh. "I love you, Uncle."

"I . . . I love you too, Fíli," Thorin replied. Swallowing back his emotions Thorin pulled Fíli into a tighter hug before releasing his hold. "So, are you hungry? Your mother told me that you have been in here since you fell from the tree." He smiled as Fíli's stomach growled in response. "Come, lad, let's see what your mother cooked. Do you want to walk or . . ."

"Can . . . can you," Fíli began before cutting himself off. "I can walk, Uncle. I'll walk."

"What if I carry you to the kitchen and then let you walk the rest of the way?" Thorin countered knowing that Fíli had wanted him to carry him but refused to ask. Fíli nodded and Thorin stood up with his nephew still cradled against his chest. He wasn't sure how much longer Fíli would allow this closeness but he was determined to have it as long as he could. It was with mingled regret and pride that he set the boy down and allowed him to walk into the kitchen with his head held high.

**ooOO88OOoo**

**There we are all. New chapter. I hope that you enjoyed it. **

**And thank you to all of you that have favorited or added this one to your alerts.**

**And an extra special thank you to those of you that reviewed! **

**Well, that's all for now so please leave me a review if you have time and/or feel so inclined. I would LOVE to know what you thought of it (especially if there was something that you hated)**

**Stickdonkyes**


	3. Chapter 3

As it always will, time passed and the boys continued to grow. Both of them had grown, but it was more marked in the youngest. Kíli had shot up like a little weed, his chubby little limbs stretching and thinning until he was nearly as tall as his brother despite the five years between them. He was tall for his age but he was far too thin for a dwarf. His continued thinness was not through lack of effort on his mother's part to change it. She made sure that there was always food for her sons to eat if they were hungry. If that meant that both she and Thorin had to take on extra jobs . . . so be it. She remembered the gnawing pain of true hunger was determined that her sons would never feel it. Thorin was united with her in this goal. The boys would want for nothing if it was in his ability to provide it for them.

Their diligence showed in Fíli. He had the rosy glow and hearty bulk of a well-fed dwarfling. Any that looked on him knew that he was well cared for. But Kíli . . . It seemed that the more that Dís fed him the lankier he grew, the nutrition translating to length rather than bulk. It was hopeless. Thorin knew that eventually Kíli would have to stop growing taller and would begin to flesh out, but as he watched his nephews playing together on the hearth rug he could only hope that day came soon, for Kíli's sake if nothing else. He knew that children were cruel and Kíli was such a sweet thing that he knew their teasing would hurt him deeply. He had heard no one say anything about his youngest nephew's thin frame but he knew that they would never dare torment the lad under his nose. He could only hope that their family name would protect his nephews when he could not.

**ooOO88OOoo**

One day, the day he had feared came to pass. Thorin was at home, taking a well-deserved day of rest from the forge. They had just filled a large order. It had truly been more than he should have taken on, but the pay was generous enough that he had been unable to turn it down. The forges had all been lit and dwarves had worked them day and night for two weeks to complete the task but it was done and would ensure that none went hungry that winter.

Usually, on the rare occasions that it happened that he was at home during the day, Dís left the boys with him when she went to the market, but that day she had taken pity on him and had taken them with her. Thorin couldn't help but be grateful. He loved his nephews but he was weary from his toils and . . . it seemed that all those two lads _had_ was energy. He still argued that if whatever powered those two dwarflings could be bottled somehow it could power a forge for a month without coal. And what's worse was that they had finally gotten old enough to begin plotting mischief together. No, it was better that they had gone with Dís.

He smiled indulgently as he wondered how his sister was fairing at the marked with _both_ of her little terrors. He let out a small laugh as he heard the front door open followed by the sound of the high laughter of happy children. It was almost as if his thoughts had summoned them to him.

"Do you think that Uncle is awake yet?" Kíli chirped loudly from the hallway.

"If he's not you're going to wake him. You're being too loud, Kíli," Fíli said, his voice little quieter than his brother's despite his critiquing of Kíli's volume. Thorin stood to make his way towards his nephews with a small smile in place.

"Then let's just go wake him!" Kíli replied. Even though Thorin couldn't see it he knew that there would be an adorable pout on Kíli's face. He could hear it in his voice.

"You know we can't," Fíli argued frustrated that his brother wanted to wake their uncle when they had been expressly ordered not to do so. "Mother told us to let him sleep. He's been working hard, remember."

"But I miss him, Fee," Kíli whined. "We haven't gotten to see him in _forever_!"

"Now surely it hasn't been that long, has it?" Thorin asked with a laugh. Kíli turned, his face splitting into a wide grin at the sight of his uncle leaning against the door frame with mirth in his eyes, before launching himself at Thorin. Seeing the lad coming, Thorin knelt so that it would be easier for Kíli to embrace him before standing with the dwarfling's arms around his neck.

"Uncle!" Kíli cried happily as he was scooped up and placed on his Uncle's hip so that Thorin could better support him. He laid his head on Thorin's shoulder and let out a noise that was almost a contented purr. "I've missed you!" He said looking up at his uncle with sad brown eyes that made Thorin regret his absence even if it was a necessary one.

"I've missed you, too, little one," Thorin replied with a smile as he stroked Kíli's bangs from his eyes with the arm that wasn't around the dwarfling before turning his attention to his eldest nephew. "I've missed you as well, Fíli. Do I not get a hug?" Fíli just looked up at him from the other end of the entry with shame in his eyes.

"What's the matter, lad?" Thorin asked his brow furrowing at Fíli's standoffishness. The blonde's behavior confused him. Surely the boy's feelings were not so hurt that he had been absent that Fíli refused to come near him. He had had no choice but to work. Surely Fíli understood that, he was older than Kíli, after all.

"We woke you," Fíli whispered morosely, looking away in shame from the exhaustion that he knew would be in his uncle's eyes. He knew that their uncle had been working long hours and needed his rest—his mother had said as much—and they had just woken him with their noise. "We were too loud and we woke you. I'm sorry, Uncle. I was supposed to keep Kíli quiet. I can take him to our room and you can go back to sleep."

"You didn't wake me," Thorin replied with a small smile now that he better understood his nephew's mood. Fíli was only afraid that he had failed at a task. For some reason that Thorin could not understand Fíli was _always_ worried that he had failed in some way. It made no sense to him. Fíli was a very bright lad and rarely failed. And even if he had failed to keep Kíli quiet . . . he was only a dwarfling himself. He could not be expected to control his brother. Thorin found it admirable that he was even able to control himself. He knew grown dwarves that were not able of _that_.

"I was already awake, Fíli," Thorin promised holding his hand out to his young heir. "I was before you left with your mother for the market."

"Really?" Fíli asked, his smile brightening at the reassurance that he had not disobeyed his mother or failed in a task that had been set for him. He had not failed his uncle!

"Would I lie to you?" Thorin asked in return, his smile widening as Fíli shook his head with a shocked expression on his face that his uncle would even think that Fíli believed he was capable of lying to him, before trotting towards him and flinging himself against his uncle to be drawn into the one-armed hug that Thorin had knelt to offer him. When Fíli finally had his fill and pulled away, Thorin stood once more and ruffled the boy's hair affectionately before asking: "Speaking of Dís, where is your mother?"

"She told us to go play while she put up the groceries," Kíli replied squirming in Thorin's hold from his excitement at having been spared the arduous task of putting away the groceries and in an attempt to reclaim Thorin's attention from his brother.

"She told us to play _quietly_," Fíli added with a glare at his brother. Even if their uncle _was_ awake it had been possible that he had not been and if that had been the case Kíli would have woken him and gotten them _both _in trouble if their mother ever found out.

"_Quietly_, Kíli," Fíli repeated. Thorin laughed at the effect Fíli's glare had on Kíli—causing the younger dwarfling to stick his tongue out at his brother from the safety of his beloved uncle's arms—before he glanced down at Fíli and felt his laughter die in his throat. Kíli's antics had caused his brother's features to twist in indignation and the look was so familiar to Thorin that it broke his heart. He had seen the same look on Frerin's face countless times when he was a little more that Fíli's age and then again the last time that he had seen him alive. To see Fíli wearing it at such a tender age . . . it felt as if that look was a spear through his heart. It was as if his own brother were standing there glaring at Kíli. It pained him, but even so, he found that he could not tear his eyes away from Fíli's face.

"—Right, Uncle?" He heard Kíli ask as he felt a small hand pull on one of his braids to get his attention.

"Wh-what?" Thorin asked, looking between the two of them in confusion. When he glanced down at Fíli the dark expression was gone and in its place was his sweet little nephew looking up at him with wide blue eyes rather than the furious brown ones from his memories. It was better but even so he could not quite shake the vision that had just assaulted him, one of Fíli's face twisted in such a way over more than just a petty squabble and dark words falling from his lips.

"I'm sorry, little one," Thorin said, tamping down his own sadness and turning back to Kíli and forcing a smile into place. "I did not hear your question. What did you ask me?"

"I said that Fee is wrong," Kíli repeated, a pout on his face both because Thorin had not been paying attention to him and because his brother was criticizing him for being too loud when Fíli was no quieter. It was not fair. _Besides_, he reasoned. _It wasn't like it mattered. Uncle was awake. There was no need to be quiet. Not anymore._

"What is Fíli wrong about?" Thorin asked trying to get the child to make sense. He knew that he was missing some critical piece of information and refused to take sides before he had received it. "Did your mother _not _tell you to play quietly?" Kíli's indignant huff revealed that he had been out of the conversation for longer than he had believed. Obviously there had been a shift in the conversation that he had not been privy to.

"That's not what he's talking about, Uncle," Fíli replied quietly from his side trying to fill his Uncle in when it became clear that Kíli had no intention to do so. "He thinks that since you are awake Mother's order is no longer valid. Thinks that we can just do as we will. I told him that we can't."

"But I don't wanna play quietly!" Kíli said looking at Thorin with wide eyes that were pleading for Thorin to side with him. "There's nothin' fun to play that's quiet!" Thorin chuckled at his nephew. The lad did have a point, few fun games were quite ones. In fact, there were few fun things in general that were quiet. But Fíli's argument was the more valid in this case. Just because it was less fun did not mean that they were allowed to disregard their mother's rules.

"But Mother _said_ to play quietly, Kee!" Fíli retorted glaring at his brother once more as Kíli behaved petulantly. Yes, it was less fun but it was still more fun that being in trouble for defying their mother. Why couldn't Kíli see that?

"Fíli," Thorin said gently, "Aren't you a bit old to be using that version of his name? It saves you no time, lad. Shouldn't you switch back to using his given name?"

"Yes, Uncle," Fíli replied looking down in shame at behaving childishly in front of his uncle and being called out on it. "I won't use it anymore." Thorin nodded and ruffled his hair gently before placing a finger under his chin and gently tipping his face up to look into his eyes.

"You were making a point, lad," Thorin reminded him. At the words Fíli smiled gratefully at Thorin for the encouragement to continue his argument with his brother before turning back to Kíli.

"That's what she said, Kíli," Fíli added. "Her order didn't include the words 'because your Uncle is asleep.' All she said was 'play quietly.' It may be less fun, but isn't that better than being in trouble? Do _you_ want to disobey Mother? 'Cause I know that I don't."

"No," Kíli mumbled. He didn't want to disobey his mother but he was upset that she had made the order she had. It was no fun. Even if he did see that Fíli was right and that less fun was better than no fun. And no matter how little fun they could have quietly it was better than being in trouble with their mother.

Fíli nodded triumphantly, his features twisted in a smirk. He had won this argument and was quite pleased with himself. The pride that he could see in his uncle's eyes as he looked at him made his heart swell and he knew that he had done well even before Thorin said that he had.

"That was well reasoned, lad," Thorin praised patting his shoulder. "I am glad to see that at least one of you realizes that your mother's orders do stand unless they are countermanded." He watched as Kíli bowed his head in defeat as he realized that their uncle was going to side with Fíli. His last chance at fun had been ruined.

"Which I am about to do," Thorin added with a smirk as he set Kíli down next to his brother and planted a kiss on the top of both of their heads before nudging them gently towards the main room. "You too go play. Don't worry about the noise. If your mother has a problem with it she can take it up with me, deal?"

"Thank you, Uncle!" they both chirped as they took off, racing each other down the hall with wild peals of childish laughter. Thorin smiled warmly after them before his smile fell and he went in search of his sister. He _knew_ Dís. If she had sent the boys to play rather than help her with the groceries she was either angry, upset, or both.

He found her sitting on a crate in the pantry with her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands. He knelt in front of her before pulling her against him, her hands coming up to cling to the front of his shirt while she sobbed into his shoulder.

"Hush, Dís," he soothed, stroking her hair. "It can't be that bad, now can it? What happened?"

"Kíli . . . he . . ." she tried to tell him what had happened in the market but it only increased her tears. And soon she gave up and just sobbed.

"What about Kíli," Thorin asked, his brows coming together in confusion as he tried to remember if there had been anything wrong with his youngest nephew. He didn't remember seeing anything. "I just saw him, Dís. He's fine. What has you so upset?"

"In the market," Dís said in a voice that was little more than a whisper, she pulled back at him and her brown eyes were so filled with pain that it broke his heart. "The other children . . . Thorin . . . he laughed them off this time but . . ."

"They were teasing him," Thorin said with a sigh. "About his height and thinness?" Dís nodded.

"And his lack of even the beginnings of a beard," Dís added. "They said . . . they said that he could not be a true dwarf. That we must have adopted him or that I . . . that I . . ." Dís trailed off at the shame of what the children had implied that she had done. She had known that rumors would fly with her giving birth to a child so far after her husband's death but she had never heard them before and for it to have come from _children_. For such sweet, innocent little things to say that she had . . . it broke her heart to hear it said in such a way.

"Oh, Dís," Thorin sighed pulling her back against him and placing his chin on top of her head as she wept again. It hurt him to see his sister in such pain and again he cursed the cruelness of fate that had reduced her to this point. She had once been so strong, so proud, but the hurts of this life had taken their toll on her. He hoped that she would recover in time but he did understand why she was so upset by this. Not only had those children dishonored her late-husband's memory by implying that she would lie with another but they had insulted her own honor _and_ her son. Her pride was triply hurt by their actions.

"They were only children, Dís," Thorin whispered into her hair. "They know no better. They did not know how their words would hurt you, my sister. We know the truth of the matter. Do not let them upset you so. We know who Kíli's father is and that he is a true son of Durin. Do not let their words bother you so, my dear little sister."

"_We_ know," she agreed darkly. "But, Thorin, Kíli . . . what will he think of me once he understands what they mean? He . . . He never even got to meet his father and he looks nothing like Gíli and everyone knows it. Thorin, when he understands what they are _actually_ saying . . . Kíli . . . he'll . . ."

"He will still love you, Dís," Thorin cut in. "You are his mother, no rumors will change that." Thorin let a sad laugh escape his lips. "He might even exact vengeance for your sake. He's got fire in him, that one!" He heard a ghost of a laugh escape her lips and knew that this would soon pass.

"What of himself, Thorin?" Dís asked. "What will he think of himself if they continue to speak about him in such a way? What will he think when they stop being vague and begin to call him a . . . a _bastard_?"

"By the time that he is old enough to know what that word means he will know better than to believe it. Dís, you are worrying too much over this. He's only six! He won't remember this once he's grown," Thorin laughed. "He's only a child!"

"I remember Erebor," Dís replied pulling back to look him in the eye once more. "Not well, but I remember it. I remember the food and the music and the. . . the drops on the other side of the balconies that seemed to go down forever. I . . . I remember beautifully carved rock with veins of something that glittered. I can't remember what color the glitter was only that I loved to watch the torchlight dance off of it. And I . . . I remember our mother . . ." she bit her lip as she tried to dredge up old memories and put a face back to the woman that had given birth to her. She couldn't seem to accomplish it and her words were slow, stunted and hesitant as she hoped that she was right.

"I don't remember much," she admitted with a sad smile before her face became a mask of concentration once more. "I . . . I remember that she was . . . she was blonde. Like Fíli and Frerin and her eyes . . . they were . . . they were . . . her eyes were . . ."

"Brown, Dís," Thorin said with a sad smile as he stroked a tear from her cheek. "Mother had brown eyes, just like you. I was the only one of us that has none of her features. I look just like Father did."

"It's alright," Dís replied sadly. "You may not have gotten any of her features but are the only one alive who still remembers her well. I . . . I can't even remember what she sounded like. But I _do_ remember that she always smelled of the forge. Just like you do." With that she nuzzled against her brother for a moment before she stood and cleared her throat. She gave a sad, breathy laugh before dusting herself off and bending to pick up the groceries from where she had dropped them when she came in.

"They won't put themselves up, will they?" she asked giving him a weak smile. She was a bit embarrassed by her outburst and for losing herself in her memories. She hoped that such a simple task as storing groceries away would allow her to overcome her melancholy.

"Dís," Thorin said reaching for her. She dodged his hand with an agility that spoke of her years of weapons training and went back to putting things in their proper places.

"I'm fine, Thorin," she said in a tone filled with forced cheer. "Go play with the boys. They've missed you. I can take care of this." He knew that it was a lie but he did not challenge her on it. She had vented the worst of her insecurities and that even though she was not yet fine she _would _be. With a nod he turned and left her to the groceries and her memories. His grim expression lasted until he made it to the doorway of the main room where it was replaced by a gentle smile at the sight that greeted him.

He had feared that he would be ambushed by dwarflings when he reached the door. Despite Kíli's protests of quiet play being no fun there were no sounds emanating from the room and Thorin knew from experience that if the boys were being quite they were up to something. He was prepared for mischief but need not have been. They were not plotting mischief, they were sleeping.

Fíli and Kíli were tangled up together on the hearth rug, Kíli's arms wrapped around his brother and his head pillowed on Fíli's small shoulder. Fíli had his left arm around his brother and his right tangled in Kíli's dark hair. _So much for playing loudly,_ Thorin thought before moving into the room and covering the boys with a blanket that was kept there just for this purpose. They often took impromptu naps on the hearth rug, especially in cold months where that was the warmest place in the house.

He gently ran a finger along Kíli's smooth cheek. "Don't worry, little one," he whispered. "You will grow a beard yet. In time all the cruel words will cease. Just try not to take them to heart." Kíli moaned softly in his sleep and Thorin stopped his petting so as to not wake the sleeping dwarfling. He turned to go back to his chair when he heard a quiet voice call him back. He turned, halfway expecting to see Kíli's brown eyes looking at him so was shocked when he saw that it was Fíli that had woken.

"What is it, lad?" Thorin asked moving back to kneel beside them so that Fíli would not wake his brother by speaking too loudly.

"What they said today about Kíli . . . it's not true is it?" Fíli asked quietly. "I mean . . . Mother would never have . . . He _is_ all dwarf, isn't he? I mean . . . I know that he is too tall and skinny but . . . It's not true, is it?" Thorin sighed and placed a hand on Fíli's cheek, the beginnings of a downy beard just beginning to appear there.

"No, Fíli," Thorin finally said. "It's not true. Kíli . . . he is your brother. A true dwarf and an heir of Durin. They . . . they do not know what it is that they said, lad. They . . . they didn't understand how much it would hurt you or your mother to hear." Fíli nodded sadly. He had thought as much but had needed to hear it from his uncle. He knew that his uncle would never lie to him. But there was something else that bothered him. If they had not spoken the truth . . .

"Then why did they say it, Uncle?" Fíli asked quietly, his voice barely audible. "Why did they talk about things they don't understand? Was it just to cause us pain?"

"I can't answer that, Fíli," Thorin said stroking through Fíli's soft golden hair as he stared off into the distance, unable to look at Fíli while he introduced him to one of the first cruelties the world had revealed to him: the cruelty of words being turned into weapons. Thorin had hoped to protect Fíli from this for a while longer but the choice had been taken from him that day and the only comfort that he could offer the lad was an explanation.

"Sometimes people say things that they do not mean or that they do not mean to be taken as they came across and inadvertently cause pain," Thorin explained, his hand still stroking Fíli's hair absently as he searched for the appropriate words to explain something like this to a child. "But sometimes," he had to swallow before he could continue as memories of his last, harsh, thoughtless words with his brother floated to the surface once more. "Well . . . sometimes . . . sometimes people say things with the _intention_ of causing another pain. Sometimes it is because they are hurting themselves and are trying to ease their own pain by hurting another—which I can promise you does not work, by the way—and sometimes . . . sometimes there is no reason other than cruelty." Thorin had to pause again at the end as he wondered which of those reasons had led to his cross words with his brother. Had he been in pain himself or had he merely been seeking to cause his brother pain? With a deep sigh he pulled himself out of his memories and smiled sadly down at his nephew.

"I cannot tell you which of those situations this was, Fíli," he whispered. "I was not there. But I doubt that those children had malicious intentions. I believe that it was ignorance, not cruelty, on their parts that led them to say such things about your brother."

"Have you ever done that, Uncle?" Fíli asked looking up at him with innocent blue eyes. "Have you ever said something just to hurt someone?" Thorin sighed and he had to close his eyes against the pureness of the trust that he was about to shatter. For someone who looked so much like Frerin to look at him with such trust and ask about the most shameful thing that Thorin had ever done in his life . . . it nearly broke him.

"Aye," Thorin replied in a choked voice. "That I have."

"Who?" Fíli asked, his tone filled with curiosity as to who his Uncle would have tried to hurt just to hurt. Surely it had been an enemy or someone that had deserved it. His uncle would never have been cruel to someone without reason. They had to have done something to him first. They had to have hurt him somehow to merit such a reaction. When it was clear that his Uncle was not going to answer him, Fíli wondered if he had perhaps gotten lost in his memories once more and repeated himself.

"Who did you say something cruel _to, _Uncle?" Rather than reply, Thorin bent and pressed a kiss to Fíli's forehead before he stood. That was not a question that he could answer. Not to Fíli. Not to his innocent nephew. He could not bear to tell Fíli that he had lashed out at his own brother over a slight to his pride. He could not bear the idea of destroying the trust that Fíli had in him and knew that with as dear a Fíli held his own brother he could never understand what had led Thorin to lash out at his.

"Sleep, lad," Thorin said instead. "Kíli will want a playmate when he wakes and if you do not sleep there is no way that you will be able to keep up with him. I will still be here when you wake."

"Yes, Uncle," Fíli replied and made a show of closing his eyes. He waited until he heard his uncle sit before opening his eyes just enough to see and glancing toward Thorin's chair where his uncle was seated with his elbows on his knees and his chin on his interlocked hands staring into the embers of the cooking fire as if it held all the secrets of the world. He stared at his uncle for a moment wondering what he was thinking before his eyes grew heavy and sleep claimed him once more.

Thorin glanced at Fíli to make sure that he was truly sleeping once more before he let the memory that had been pressing on his mind all day to flow to the surface and he once more relived the conversation that he had shared with his brother in the war camp at the East Gates of Moria the night before the Battle of Azanulbizar. It was not a memory that he tried to dwell on but the events of the day had called it to mind and he knew from experience that this was one that he would have to allow to play out before he could push it away once more.

**ooOO88OOoo**

_Frerin and Thorin were sitting in their shared tent sharing stories and memories as they waited for sleep to take them. This was to be their first major battle and though neither of them were adults yet their father and grandfather had insisted that all dwarves that could fight should be present, regardless of if they had reached maturity. Numbers would be their only hope against the horrors that had taken over their ancient kingdom. Their nerves were running high and they knew that sleep would be difficult to find that evening._

"_Thorin?" Frerin had asked from where he was sitting on his bed with his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms around them. Thorin had glanced up from the axe he was sharpening and regarded his brother carefully. _

"_Are you afraid of what might happen tomorrow?" Frerin asked in a small voice, his brown eyes filled with fear. "That you might die. That it might hurt?" Thorin had shrugged._

"_I haven't really thought about it," Thorin lied. In truth, he was terrified. All his life he had heard tales about the ferocity of Orcs and what they were capable of both in battle and outside it. He knew that if the battle went poorly that death was the most merciful option that he could hope for. He had heard tell of the atrocities that Orcs committed on prisoners, atrocities that left them as shells of their former selves. He hoped that if it came down to it he would die an honorable death rather than a slow one in the fortresses of the Orcs._

"_Liar," Frerin snapped with a snort. "I can see it in your eyes, Thorin. You're terrified. You can lie to everyone else but you can't lie to me, Brother."_

"_So what if I am?" Thorin snapped back, hurt that his brother would throw his fear in his face like that. What good would it do either of them to have it out there in the open? Just because he was afraid . . . what did it matter? He would still do as he needed to for the good of their people. His own fear was irrelevant. _

"_We don't have to fight, you know?" Frerin whispered, knowing that what he said could be seen as treason if overheard by the wrong ears. "The laws of our people are clear. We're still children, Thorin. They can't __**force**__ us to fight. Not if we say no. There are so many children here, brother. It is wrong. We . . . we __**shouldn't**__ have to fight. I know that if you speak out against it then—"_

"_You would have me go against our father and grandfather?" Thorin snapped. "Frerin, I can't do that, brother. I __**can't**__ go against them. Not now. Not when so many are already against this campaign in the first place. If their heir was to come out against it . . . no, I can't do it, brother."_

"_Did it ever occur to you that if so many are against it that we probably shouldn't be doing it in the first place?" Frerin asked incredulously. "Thorin, I __**love**__ our grandfather but . . . he is not thinking clearly, Thorin. This . . . this is foolishness. What will we actually gain from this?"_

"_We will regain what is rightfully ours!" Thorin snarled. "Where is your pride as an heir of Durin? Durin ruled here at one point. It only makes sense that we should retake it now that our home has been taken from us." _

"_And what of Durin's Bane, Thorin?" Frerin snapped. "What do we intend to do about __**that**__ even assuming that we __**do**__ win tomorrow? What is there in Khazad-dûm that is worth the lives that we will lose to claim it?"_

"_Mithril," Thorin replied, his tone implying that he thought his brother was slow. "There is mithril there."_

"_**Was**__," Frerin corrected, his tone suggesting that he thought the same of Thorin. "There __**was**__ mithril there, Thorin. But even if it is still there, so what? The secrets of how to mine and forge it were lost. It is useless to us. We will just be throwing lives away for a useless bit of shiny metal. I love beautiful things as much as the next dwarf but this . . . Thorin, this is folly. You have to come out against it. For me."_

"_It is not as simple as that, Frerin," Thorin sighed. "I cannot do as you ask, Brother. You do not understand the burdens that come from being the next in line for the throne. I cannot just do as I wish whenever I wish. I have to think of the good of our people before my own fears."_

"_The good of our people!" Frerin scoffed shooting to his feet and gesturing wildly. "Thorin, how is allowing __**children**__ to be marched off to an unnecessary war with __**orcs**__ for the good of our people!?"_

"_You couldn't understand," Thorin replied sadly, looking away from his brother. "There are more forces at play here that you know of, Brother. It is not as simple as you make it seem."_

"_No, Thorin," Frerin replied. "You're the one that doesn't understand. You are so absorbed in what you __**should**__ do as their heir to see what you __**should**__ do as the next leader of our people. If you do not come out against the battle . . . I thought that I knew you, Thorin, but if you can let this happen without saying a word against it I'm not sure that you are the person I thought that you were."_

"_Do not lecture me on the difficulties of balancing duty to family with duty to the crown!" Thorin yelled rising to his own feet to glare down at his brother. Frerin's words had wounded his pride and he spoke without taking the time to consider his words, his own stress and fear adding fuel to the fire until what left his mouth was the cruelest thing to have ever passed his lips, the words dropping in volume until they were little more than a venomous hiss._

"_**You**__ are the one who clearly does not understand what he __**should**__ be doing," Thorin snarled into his brother's face. "You should not be standing here attempting to sway me from the path that our father and grandfather have set out for us! They know what they're doing, Frerin. As do I. Though if you don't want to fight, remain here. Show them all that the second son of Thráin is a coward and unworthy of his place in the succession. Good luck taking over as our king if Grandfather, Father and I all fall in battle tomorrow. I cannot see our people follow a spoiled __**princeling**__ who would not even raise an axe in the name of his kin." Frerin's eyes had filled with tears at Thorin's harsh words before they hardened and hatred took the place of pain in their brown depths. _

_"__You think you're so much better than me because you are the first born,"__Frerin said, his face twisted into a mask of pain and fury. "But you're nothing but a __**fool**__, Thorin. I can't believe that I used to look up to you. I'm __**ashamed**__ of you. I can't believe that we are actually brothers. Even if we do both survive tomorrow I want nothing more to do with you." When he had finished speaking, Frerin turned on his heel and stormed out of the tent, not even glancing over his shoulder as he walked into the darkness. Thorin ran to the flap of the tent, waiting for Frerin to turn and apologize for his words but it never came. As he began to lose sight of his brother in the gloom, he called after him._

_"__I'm not sure that we are!" Thorin yelled at his brother's retreating form, his anger and pain at the words causing him to lash out. "No brother of mine could be such a __**coward**__! I'm glad that you are done with me because I __**never**__ want to see you again!" Frerin had stopped but did not turn. After a brief pause he continued into the darkness, his pale hair the last thing to fade from Thorin's sight._

**ooOO88OOoo**

That had been the last time that Thorin had seen his brother alive. Frerin hadn't survived the battle. He had been dead when Thorin had found him. To this day, Thorin wondered what might have happened if he had taken Frerin's advice that night and protested the battle. Or if he hadn't lost his temper and driven his brother away. Would Frerin have survived if he and Thorin had been together on the field of battle? He felt a tear slide down his cheek at the fact that he had been responsible for his brother's death. He allowed himself to feel the regret for a moment longer before he forced it down. It would do no good to dwell on the past. He may not be able to have a second chance to make things right with his brother but he could avoid making the same mistakes twice.

He glanced over at his sleeping nephews and swore to himself that no harm would ever come to them through any action of his own. He would not be responsible for another member of his family looking at him with hatred before dying for his mistakes. He knew that someday they would see battle but he vowed that they would have the best training that he could provide them. And Fíli . . . Thorin swore that he would teach him the lessons that he had never learned from his father or grandfather—the lessons that Frerin had known so well: that sometimes inaction was the best course of action.

Unbeknownst to him, he also made another promise that night: one that he would never see Fíli look at him the same way that he had seen Frerin look at him so long ago. Fíli would never hurt him the way that Frerin had. Fíli would never wound him as deeply as Frerin had despite the similarities between them. He unconsciously swore to do everything in his power to prevent it. That was when things began to change between them though Thorin would only realize it much later.

**ooOO88OOoo**

**Wow . . . this one turned into a bit of beast, didn't it? I would say that I hoped that you enjoyed it but . . . this one was a bit angsty so I'm not sure that enjoy is quite the right word . . . I hope that you appreciated it? . . . not quite right either . . . *shrugs* you know what I am trying to say :)**

**As always, thank you to all of you that have favorited or added this one to your alerts.**

**And an extra special thank you to those of you that reviewed!**

**Well, that's all for now so please leave me a review if you have time and/or feel so inclined. I would LOVE to know what you thought of it (****especially**** if there was something that you hated)**

**Stickdonkeys**


	4. Chapter 4

Despite Thorin's knowledge that dwelling on the past accomplished nothing, he found that he was unable to shake himself from the memories that had be dredged up that day. He was still sitting in the same chair, staring into the dead fire when Dís came into the kitchen to begin preparations for dinner. She smiled at her sleeping sons and bent to place a gentle kiss on both of their foreheads before threading her fingers into their unbound hair and resting her forehead against both of theirs.

"No matter what the rest of the world says to you, never forget that I love you more than life itself, my precious sons," she whispered before standing once more, not noticing the twin tears that had fallen from her eyes and landed on her sons' cheeks. Once more, she forced down her pain. Thorin had been right. Her boys, while children, were true dwarves and heirs of Durin. They were resilient. Neither of them would take the taunting to heart, though it might enrage them as they aged. She was being a sentimental fool.

"Did you wear them out so quickly, Brother?" she called, her tone light as she attempted to forget her fears for her children in banter with her brother. "I need you to teach me your technique. Takes me _ages _to get them to sleep." Her smile fell when he did not even give any indication that he had heard her. Instead he continued to stare into the ashes of the fireplace with a pained expression and haunted eyes. Dís sighed as she approached him. She knew that Thorin has seen too much at much too young an age and that occasionally something would trigger a memory and drive him into a melancholy state. She felt regret wash through her as she realized that this time it had probably been she that triggered his painful memories when she had spoken of Erebor and their mother.

"Thorin?" she called softly, hoping to shake him free of the memories without startling him. He tended to react poorly when startled even when he wasn't trapped in remembrance. The boys had yet to see him like this to her knowledge and she hoped that she could bring him back to them without waking Fíli and Kíli in the process. When he did not respond, she moved into his line of sight and knelt so that she could see his eyes before placing one hand on his knee and the other on the side of his face.

He jumped slightly when she touched him and his hand twitched as if going for the hilt of a sword that he was not wearing before he managed to focus on her face. Only then did the panic that had filled his eyes fade only to be replaced by infinite sadness.

"I left you again, didn't I Dís?" he whispered pressing his cheek into her hand, seeking the comfort that she offered.

"You did," she agreed. "What was it this time? Erebor again?" He shook his head sadly and looked away from the pity in her eyes. He knew that he was not worthy of it, not when he was the reason they no longer had Frerin.

"Azanulbizar," he replied still unable to meet her eyes. He felt her flinch, though she tried to cover it up. He hated bringing it up. For their family that had been the single bloodiest day in their lives. True, the loss of Erebor had been devastating—as had the loss of their mother in the attack—but Azanulbizar had seen greater loss of younger lives and had seen the loss of two of their remaining kin. Two-fifths of their remaining line had died that day. Even if Dís did not bear the bloody memories of it that he did, she bore the pain of the loss they had suffered.

Dís sighed; now the haunted look in Thorin's eyes made sense. Not only had he seen countless numbers of their people fall but he had witnessed their grandfather beheaded and had been unable to protect Frerin from the same fate. She wasn't sure which of those memories was haunting him at the moment and she wondered what had managed to trigger memories of that bloody battle. Surely nothing that she had said could have done it. Had one of the boys said something?

"Oh, Thorin," she sighed pulling him against her and offering him what little comfort she could, at first he was stiff in her arms but slowly he relaxed and allowed her to hold him as silent tears poured down his cheeks. "Why do you dwell on such painful memories, Brother? Why do your torture yourself so? There was nothing that you could have done differently. You were only a child, Thorin."

"I shouldn't have spoken to him like that, Dís," Thorin muttered his hold on her shoulders tightening to the point that it was nearly painful but she did not complain. She just listened. This was the only way that she had found to help him. If it required her to experience a bit of the pain that he felt, well that was a price that she was willing to pay to see him smile.

"As I said, you were a child, Thorin," Dís replied firmly stroking his hair gently with one hand while holding him in place with the other. "A _scared_ child. You shouldn't have but you did. You can't change that by dwelling on it. I'm not sure that it would have changed things even if you hadn't. Frerin was too young to be there, Thorin. He was only forty-eight. He wasn't ready for a battle of that magnitude. Besides, you know as well as I do that Frerin was never much of a fighter. He never had your skill with weapons, or even mine. He had not business there, Thorin. It is through no fault of your own that he died. If you and he had been together on the field it is highly possible that you would have died trying to prevent his death and then he be killed anyway. None of us can know what might have happened, Thorin. No one. You cannot change the past and you shouldn't seek to try. Is the present that we have truly so bad that you would risk it?"

"No," Thorin said. "The present is not so bad. That is part of the cause for my guilt. We may not have much here, but Frerin would have loved what we do. And your boys . . . I deprived him of seeing your boys when I failed to protect him. When I _drove_ him away from me. When I said that I never wanted to see him again." With a frustrated sound he tried to push her away from him. "Leave me, Dís. I do not deserve your comfort. I _murdered_ our brother. His blood is on my hands as surely as if I killed him myself." Rather than follow his order, she clung to him all the more tightly.

"You did nothing of the sort, Thorin," she whispered into his ear. "Frerin's death was a tragic accident. A consequence of battle that was not your fault. I do not blame you for it. Stop blaming yourself. It is not healthy. I know that everyone believes it was the loss of Grandfather that drove Father mad but I know that is not the truth: it was the knowledge that he was the one that gave the order that ended his youngest son's life. Do not let Father's mistakes ruin your life as well, Thorin. Do not let grief consume you." He said nothing in response but had gone limp in her arms once more. With a sigh she stood once more and gazed down at him sadly before asking, "May I ask what triggered it this time?" she made it sound like an idle question but it was anything but. She wanted to know what caused these trips so that she could do everything in her power to avoid them.

"Fíli," Thorin replied sadly. "He asked me about what happened in the market today. About _why_ they did it. In the course of the answer he . . . he asked me if I had ever said anything just to cause another pain. He looks _so_ much like Frerin did at his age, Dís. It . . . I . . ."

"He's not Frerin, Thorin," Dís said harshly. She knew where her brother was going with this and would not allow him to superimpose Frerin over Fíli. They were two totally different people with totally different personalities. It would not be fair of Thorin to expect from Fíli what he had of their brother. Especially with the grief that Thorin still carried. Fíli deserved love from his family. Mahal knew that the world would not give it to him and she would be _damned_ if she allowed her brother to mistreat her son as he worked through his own issues.

"I know that, Dís," Thorin replied quickly, his tone placating. Even he knew better that to butt heads with his sister when she feared for her children's well-being. A dwarf mother was a dangerous thing to contend with. "Fíli is . . . he's such a sweet child, Dís. Frerin was _never_ that sweet. There are more differences than that and I _know_ that they are not the same person. You do have to admit that the similarities in their appearance are striking."

"Actually I don't," she said with a wry smile. "I don't remember what Frerin looked like at Fíli's age. In case you have forgotten, there were nine years between us. I was only two when Frerin was Fíli's age. Ask me again if they look similar in about ten years and I will be more than willing to compare and contrast them with you."

Despite himself, Thorin laughed. It was a quiet and weak laugh but it was a laugh all the same. "I will hold you to that, Dís," he said with a small smile. "Should we begin dinner? I don't know about you, but I do not particularly wish to contend with hungry dwarflings fresh from a nap. They are quite ferocious." She smiled at the memory of her sons 'ferociously' attacking her brother one evening a few months ago and him allowing them to win before directing Thorin towards the table.

"You get started on those vegetables—I know that you and the boys hate them but they are _good_ for them—and I'll get this fire going," Dís ordered in a no-nonsense voice that she seemed to have perfected since Fíli was born and Thorin had to smile as he wondered what the others would think about him taking orders from his _baby_ sister. Orders that led to him chopping vegetables no less! He shook his head indulgently at the idea as he began preparing the vegetables. None of them ever needed to know. To the rest of the world he may be a king but here . . . here he was simply Thorin: Brother and Uncle and that was also something that they had no need to know.

**ooOO88OOoo**

By the time the boys awoke, all signs of the distress that their mother and uncle had gone through that day had been suppressed once more and they were teasing one another just as they always did. Dinner was just as light as it always was—even if there were dreaded vegetables on the plate. As always happened when Dís decided that she was going to serve vegetables, there was a bit of negotiation that had to take place before they were eaten. This time, Thorin got pulled into the middle of it—much to his displeasure.

He and Dís had long ago reached an understanding when it came to vegetables—which for some strange reason Dís actually _liked_—and that was that she could put them on the table if she wished and that she could force the boys to eat them if she wanted but that Thorin _would not_ eat them. There was one stipulation to her agreement to his terms and that was that if at any time the boys attempted to use the fact that he did not eat them against her their agreement would be nullified and vegetables would find their way onto his plate and he _would_ eat them if she had to pry his jaw open and force them down his throat herself. That night, it happened for the first time.

Fíli was glaring at the vegetables on his plate and stabbing at them savagely with his fork before he stopped and his sharp eyes roamed around the table and fell on his uncle's plate, completely devoid of the vegetation that marred his, Kíli's and his mother's plates. As he thought through it he realized that he had _never_ seen vegetables on his uncle's plate.

"Mother?" he asked suddenly waiting patiently for her to look at him before he finished his question. "Why does Uncle have no vegetables on his plate?" He wondered at the smug glance that his mother shot his uncle but said nothing as he waited for her to respond.

Rather than answer she asked a question of her own. "Would you care to answer that question, Dear Brother?" she asked, her words dripping with amusement as she watched Thorin scramble to come up with an answer to the question that would not lead to him have vegetables put onto his plate. She couldn't contain her smile at the panic that briefly flared in his eyes before he glared at her as if this were all her fault.

"Well, Fíli," Thorin began slowly as he tried to think. He briefly considered lying and saying that he had already eaten his but the glare and slight shake of Dís' head rapidly dissuaded him. As did the fact that he did not want to lie to his nephews. With lying out of the question he sighed, defeated and only hoped that the boys would take his answer as it came and not try to use it as a way to get out of eating their own. He had no intention of eating them willingly and knew that Dís _would_ go through with her threat to force-feed them to him if she thought that it would be for the good of her sons.

"I . . . there are no vegetables because . . . because they do not . . . because I . . . I do not like them," he said finally. "I do not like them so I choose not to eat them." He smiled as Fíli nodded in response and turned back to his own plate with his curiosity satisfied. He had just begun to relax as the fact that Fíli was not going to make an issue of it became apparent and sent his own smug glance at Dís. He had won this round. Then his victory was pulled from his grasp by another small voice.

"I don't like them either," Kíli said from his place across the table from his uncle. "I chose not to eat them too!"

"I am afraid that you do not have that right, my darling," Dís said, her smug smile back in place. "_You_ must eat them. You are far too thin as it is. You cannot refuse food."

"Then why does Uncle get to?" Kíli pouted. "That's not fair, Mother. Why does he get to choose what he wants to eat and I don't?"

"Do you want to explain it to him, O Brother Mine?" Dís asked in a sickly sweet tone that Thorin hated because it was one that she only used to taunt him. Thorin sighed before he tried the only tactic that _might_ work and save him from his terrible fate.

"Kíli," Thorin said firmly, "I am allowed to choose because I am grown. You are still a growing dwarfling . . . a _rapidly_ growing dwarfling. They are good for you so you must eat them. I no longer need them."

"But they would be good for you too, right Uncle?" Kíli asked innocently, staring across the table at Thorin with wide brown eyes. Thorin could see no way out of it. He knew that his next answer would seal his fate but he could give no other.

"Aye, little one," Thorin agreed with a heavy sigh. "They would be good for me as well."

"Then why won't you eat them?" Kíli asked his eyes going impossibly wider. "Are they _poisoned_? Will they _kill_ us?" Dís burst out laughing at her son's ludicrous suggestion.

"Darling, do you honestly think that I would poison you?" Dís asked with a fond smile on her face.

"Then why won't he eat them?!" Kíli asked in shock. The idea that his mother would feed them all poison refusing to be dismissed. "If they are good for him and not poisoned why won't he eat them? I won't eat them if he won't!"

"Darling," Dís said standing and trying to soothe her now frantic child, "they are _not_ poisoned. You will be fine. Watch, your uncle will eat some of them and prove to you that they are not poisoned. Won't you, Thorin?"

Thorin nearly flinched at the glare that she leveled at him over Kíli's head: a glare that clearly said 'this is _your_ fault. I _told_ you that this would happen.' With a sigh he reached for the bowl of vegetables in the middle of the table and placed a hearty serving on his plate. With a grimace he picked up a piece of the vegetation—one that looked like a small tree—and popped it into his mouth chewing it determinately before he swallowed it. As soon as it was gone he picked up his tankard and washed the vile taste from his mouth with a large amount of mead.

"See," he said encouragingly once he was done. "Not poisoned." Kíli still looked unconvinced and Dís looked at him pointedly. So he picked up another of the trees and ate it as well. The taste was no better the second time. It took a third piece before Kíli cautiously picked up his fork and speared one of the little trees and eyed is suspiciously before putting it in his mouth and chewed it with a surly look on his small features.

"That's good my little one," Dís praised kissing the top of his head before returning to her seat. "Just like that." Fíli had watched the entire thing in amusement, eating all of his vegetables while they were otherwise occupied. He did not share his uncle and Kíli's distaste for them and—like his mother—almost found that he liked them, though he would never admit it to another soul as he had heard his uncle and mother arguing more than once and knew that _true_ dwarves did not like green food. Due to that, he pulled faces and protested as any good dwarf would while secretly savoring the taste of them on his tongue. He occasionally caught his mother looking at him oddly almost as if she could sense that his protests were half-hearted, but if she knew . . . well that was their little secret.

**ooOO88OOoo**

**There we are all, a new chapter.**

**This time I have a QUESTION for you: For the next two weeks I am going to be writing like a madwoman to try to get as much done on these stories as I can before school starts up the first week of June. After it does updates will become much more sporadic (it's an accelerated program that compresses 2 years of study into 9 months. What would be a normal semester is now crammed into 8 weeks and well . . . that's a lot to do and very little time to do it) Here's where the question comes in. Do you want me to post as I get it done and get a mass amount of uploads in the next two weeks and then potentially silence for a while or would you rather that I hold them and give out a chapter (or two) a week? I think I prefer the spread out method but will do it whichever way is the most popular on each of my stories. I do want happy readers after all ;D. So vote for you choice in the reviews!**

**That said, as always, thank you to all of you that have favorited or added this one to your alerts.**

**And an extra special thank you to those of you that reviewed!**

**Well, that's all for now so please leave me a review if you have time and/or feel so inclined. I would LOVE to know what you thought of it (****especially**** if there was something that you hated)**

**Stickdonkeys**


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, Thorin offered to take the boys on an outing to give Dís a chance to have a moment to herself without two rambunctious dwarflings. The boys were beyond excited at the prospect of getting to leave the house with their uncle. Dís was more than happy to agree to it as well, but she had one stipulation: if they were to go out in public with their uncle they would have to be presentable. That meant clean clothes and braids.

Their excitement evaporated instantly. They didn't want to waste valuable time that they could be playing with their uncle on sitting still and having their hair arranged. Kíli had taken to looking between his guardians with wide, pleading eyes but Fíli was scrambling to find an argument that might liberate them from that hardship. Finally he believed that he had found one.

"Mother?" Fíli asked quietly. "Why do we have to be braided to go out with Uncle but not with you? You didn't make us wear braids to go to the market yesterday. Why is today different?" Dís sighed and tried to think of how to explain the difference to her eldest son. She had intended to keep their family position from them for as long as possible so as to allow them to be children and not princes. It was the same reason that she kept them in their home as much as possible. She wanted them to have the childhood that she had missed out on, not be ogled as the last heirs of a dying line.

"It is different because . . ." she looked to Thorin for help unable to find the words to explain. He merely shrugged. He disagreed with her decision to keep their heritage from the boys but he respected that they were her sons and therefore the decision was hers. She shot him a look at his lack of aid in her time of need before she sighed. She would have to tell them something.

"Your uncle is a very important dwarf," she said finally. "He cannot be seen in public with two wild little dwarflings. What would the people think about him if they see him with his nephews running around in dirty clothes and wild hair?"

"Aren't you important too?" Kíli asked looking at her in confusion. "How can he be important and you not?" He couldn't understand it. To him they were the same. They both loved him and they were both equally important to him. Why were the different to others?

"That's just the way it works, darling," Dís replied just as Thorin cut in with, "Your mother is an important dwarf as well, little one, just important in a different way."

"How is it different?" Fíli asked, curious as to what his uncle meant. If they were both important and were from the same family how could they be important in different ways? Dís shot Thorin an exasperated look that he had interfered and complicated the issue further.

"Your uncle is important because of our father and grandfather," Dís explained. "It is not an importance that I or anyone else can share. It is just for him." Thorin shot her an exasperated glance of his own that said 'Just tell them Dís. It will make more sense that what you are doing.' She ignored him and turned back to Fíli at the sound of his voice.

"What about you? Why are you important if that importance is just for Uncle?" Fíli pressed. "Why can you be seen with us as wild dwarflings but he can't?" He was not trying to be difficult but just to understand what the difference was. Why were the rules different depending on which of them he was with?

"My importance to our people comes from the two of you, my sweet boys," Dís replied. "I am important _because_ I am your mother. It does not matter in what state you are seen with me. My importance stems from the two of you."

"Does that . . . does that mean that . . . are _we_ important?" Kíli asked quietly. "Is that . . . is that why people stare when we go out?" Dís was taken aback. She hadn't realized that the boys realized that people stared at them. With a sigh she realized that she could keep the truth from them no longer.

"Come with me, boys. There's something your uncle and I need to tell you," she sighed as she led them to hearth rug and sat Fíli before her while Kíli climbed into Thorin's lap and leaned against his uncle happily. She lifted the comb off the table where she had left it before they left for the market and started working through the tangles in his blonde hair as she sifted through her thoughts.

"Boys," she began finally, her hands never stopping their work on her eldest son's hair as she spoke, "what do you know of the history of our people. Not how we were created. Where did we _come_ from?"

"We came from Er-erebor," Fíli said hesitantly. It was a word that he had only heard uttered in hushed reverent tones and he was not sure if it was a word that he was allowed to say or if he would be scolded for it. No one had ever said it directly to him. He had only heard it in snatches of conversation between his mother, uncle and older cousins.

"Yes," Dís agreed as she began to meticulously part his golden hair with a sad smile on her face as she recalled doing the same for her dear Gíli and Frerin. Dís supposed that Thorin's statement the day before made some sense. Fíli did have Frerin's hair, even if he had Thorin and Thráin's eyes.

"We came from Erebor," Dís confirmed as she began to braid his hair. "It is where I and your uncles were born."

"Why don't we live there anymore?" Kíli asked quietly looking up at his uncle in confusion as Thorin wrapped an arm around him and pulled him back against his chest enjoying the comfort of his nephew's small warm body in his lap as Dís spoke of their painful history.

"When I was a child just older than Kíli," Dís said sadly. "We lost our home and were forced to move."

"How did we lose it?" Fíli asked glancing at his uncle since he couldn't move his head to look at his mother. He was shocked at the coldness and distance in Thorin's gaze as he stared at nothing. He had never seen that look in his uncle's eyes before.

"We didn't lose it," Thorin cut in harshly his gaze shifting to Fíli and causing his nephew to flinch away from the pain there. "It was _stolen_ from us."

"Who took it?" Kíli asked still staring up at Thorin uncowed despite his uncle's angry outburst. He saw no reason to fear his uncle, Thorin had never hurt him. Thorin exchanged a look with Dís, wondering just how much she wanted the boys to know, and she smiled sadly at him in permission. Even with her blessing he paused a moment before deciding that if Dís was going to tell them the truth they may as well know the _entire_ truth.

"Our home was taken from us because a dragon named Smaug coveted the wealth of my Grandfather and our people," Thorin explained sadly. "I can still remember the sound of his flight and the heat of his flames. In addition to taking our home and gold, Smaug also took the life of your grandmother. Once he took the mountain, we were forced to wander homeless because none would aid us. In our quest for a new home, countless more lives were lost either to starvation, the elements or war. It was the final thing that most decimated our numbers. It was war that took my grandfather and brother from this world."

"But, Uncle, what does that have to do wi—" Fíli began only to be cut off in a sharp cry by a tug on the braid that his mother was working on.

"Hush, dear heart," Dís whispered into his ear as she gently rubbed the spot that she thought had pulled with her freehand. "I am sorry if I hurt you but this is difficult enough for him to talk about this without interruptions. He'll get there. Just give him time." Fíli nodded and resisted the urge to rub his scalp where his mother had actually pulled his hair. He knew that she had truly meant nothing by it. She had not actually meant to hurt him. She would never do that.

"The loss of nearly half of our line drove my father mad," Thorin continued as he unconsciously pulled Kíli even more firmly against him only losing his hold when the dwrafling gave a little squeak of discomfort. "I am sorry, little one," Thorin whispered before turning back to Fíli to finish his explanation. "He . . . he disappeared many years ago. A year after he left, he was presumed dead. That was when I truly became an important dwarf." He sighed and tried to decide the best way to say the next part before deciding that the truth was the best.

"When Smaug took Erebor it was not just gold or a home or lives that he robbed us of," Thorin said sadly. "For the rest of the dwarves that was all—even though that is _more_ than enough to be robbed of. But for _us_, for me, your mother and the rest of our family—including you boys—he robbed us of a kingdom. We had meant to wait to tell you this until you were older however the time has come."

"You boys know that occasionally I have to leave for trips for months at a time," Thorin said and waited for them to nod before he continued. "That is because I have to take part in negotiations to make sure that our people are cared for. I have to go and negotiate treaties and contracts to ensure that we are able to get the food we need and avoid war to the best of our abilities."

"But why do _you_ have to do it, Uncle?" Fíli asked quietly hoping that his mother would not protest his questions this time.

"Because I am King," Thorin replied simply. "Most of the people I deal with will negotiate with nothing less, though some are willing to treat with Balin. For some reason they find him _less_ confrontational," Thorin finished with a laugh.

"What's a king?" Kíli asked slowly, his forehead wrinkled in concentration as he tried out the strange word. It was a word that he had never heard before and it confused him.

"That is a hard question, lad," Thorin sighed. "A king is many things depending on what it is that his people need at any given time. Sometimes I am a warrior, sometimes a mediator, sometimes a judge others little more than a broker and sometimes I am noting more than a smith. But above all else, a king is a leader."

"So that is why _you_ are special," Fíli said nodding in understanding. "You are the leader of our people. There is one thing that I still do not understand. Why would Mother being our mother make her special? I understand now why she is special in a different way than you are but what do we do to make her important?"

"You are my heirs," Thorin replied simply. "When I pass beyond this world _you_ will become King. And if, Mahal forbid, something should happen to you before you have a son of your own the title will pass to Kíli. Fíli, you are the next in line for the throne. _That_ is what makes you special and your mother special for having given birth to you."

As Fíli tried to think of a response to his uncle's words, he felt a gentle tap to his cheek. Instead of saying anything to his uncle he turned to look at his mother who looked at him appraisingly for a moment before she nodded her approval and made a small shooing motion with her hand.

"I've finished," Dís said with a soft smile and gentle kiss on the forehead for her eldest. "Now trade places with your brother."

"But Mother, I really don't like braids," Kíli whined clinging to the front of Thorin's shirt desperately. "Do you _really_ have to braid my hair?"

"Didn't you hear your uncle?" Dís replied exasperated with the stubbornness of her youngest. "He's a king and you're a prince. You can't be seen out with him with your hair flying free. Now come here!" Kíli said nothing as he wiggled off his uncle's lap and moved towards his mother, but the droop in his shoulders reminded Thorin more of a man walking to his execution than a dwarfling preparing to have his hair braided. He had to laugh at Kíli's dejectedness.

"Let the lad be, Dís," Thorin said scooping Kíli back into his lap and ruffling his untidy hair affectionately. "He is fine just as he is. He's only a small child after all. None can fault him for having slightly unruly hair. They do not need better clothing either. I am taking them for a playday not a parade."

"He's still a prince of Durin, Thorin," Dís reminded her brother. "And one of your heirs. He should be presentable if he is to be seen with you in public."

"A _small_ prince of Durin," Thorin countered. "I seem to recall a young princess running around the halls of Erebor with loose tresses and torn skirts when she was Kíli's age. Let him be a child a while longer, Dís. There will be time later for you to force him to sit still and let you braid his hair. There will be time later for him to be a prince of Durin, let him be Kíli for a while longer."

"Does that mean that I can take these out?" Fíli asked hopefully his small hand already going for the tie that held one of the braids his mother had just put in. He didn't like the braids. They pulled strangely on his scalp and where the ties hung down they tickled his face and neck. He wanted them out! His hopes of being free of them were dashed as the smile that Thorin had while looking at Kíli faded and became tight as he looked at Fíli.

The boy had the sudden desire to apologize even though he was unsure what he had done wrong. His uncle had never looked at him so dispassionately before. And then Thorin spoke and there was a distance in his tone that had never been there before. That more than anything else made him know that he had done something wrong, even if he didn't know what it was. For some reason, his uncle was displeased with him. The thought of it broke his heart and made him feel cold. He had never managed to displease his uncle before, not like this. His uncle had never been cold towards him before. Angry, yes. Cold, never.

"No, lad," Thorin said shaking his head. "Your mother already has yours in. It will take longer to take them out than to leave them in. And at any rate they become you. In fact, I believe that it is time that you began wearing them full time. Now that you are aware of your place in society you should behave in a manner becoming to it."

"Thorin!" Dís breathed scandalized. "He's still a child! You . . . you can't . . . he's little more than a babe!"

"He's eleven, Dís," Thorin replied with a sad smile. "He is old enough to begin taking on his role as my heir. He's older than I was when my training began. I will speak with Balin about setting up lessons for him." Dís felt her heart constrict in her chest. This had been why she had tried to put this off. She knew that once Fíli knew the truth that she would have little chance of stopping her brother from taking her son and making him his heir.

"And what of Kíli?" She demanded harshly. "You yourself just said that he is only a child. What do you intend to do about him? He can't go to lessons yet and they've never been separated, Thorin. What will _he_ do while his brother is at lessons?"

"You . . . you want to separate us?" Kíli breathed desperately clutching at Thorin's shirt as tears began to fill his brown eyes at the prospect. "Uncle? You . . . you won't separate us, will you? You're not going to take Fíli from me, are you? I . . . I _need _Fee, Uncle. I . . . I . . . " Thorin pulled Kíli's head down to rest on his shoulder and stroked his wild hair in an attempt to soothe him.

"Hush, Kíli," he whispered. "I will not separate you permanently. Only a short period of time each day or perhaps even every other day. You will still see him. Do not worry. I will never come between the two of you. I swear it."

"They're too young, Thorin," Dís repeated fury in her voice. "You shouldn't—"

"We will discuss this later, Dís," Thorin cut her off with a pointed look at the boys—Kíli who was glancing between the two of them in shock and Fíli who was staring at the floor with a blank expression on his face. Dís felt remorse flood her veins for her boys. They had never seen their mother and uncle fight. Not truly. They had seen banter, mock arguments but nothing heated. Nothing like this. Dís looked at her boys and sighed. While she wanted to have it out with Thorin right then and there she knew that she could not make her boys witness that so rather than argue, she nodded curtly.

"We _will_ discuss this later, Thorin," she promised darkly. He nodded before standing and shifting Kíli from his arms to his hip before taking Fíli's hand in his own and leading the stunned dwarfling out of the house.

**ooOO88OOoo**

**Here we are all :) New chapter . . . the beginning of the decline has arrived :( Just hang on for the ride :/**

**As to the vote, it looks like this one is an update weekly thing as well :) Thank you to all of you who took the time to give me your opinion :)**

**And thank you to all of you that have favorited or added this one to your alerts.**

**And an extra special thank you to those of you that reviewed!**

**gpgal: Thank you so much! I'm glad that you are loving it! And sorry that I almost made you cry :( And I'm glad that you are loving their tenderness. . . enjoy it while you can :( And yeah . . . poor Thorin. I really do feel for him (no matter how cruel I seem to be) He really has had a rough break :(. And yeah . . . Fili's a real sweetheart . . . too bad fate is not kinder to kind people :(**

**Well, that's all for now so please leave me a review if you have time and/or feel so inclined. I would LOVE to know what you thought of it (especially if there was something that you hated)**

**Stickdonkyes**


	6. Chapter 6

When Thorin had said an outing, he meant an _outing_. He had not simply meant that he was going to take them out of the house, he meant that he was going to take them out of Ered Luin. It took them some time to get through town, more so than it took when it was just Dís and the boys or Thorin by himself. None of their people had ever seen the King out of the house with the boys in tow with Dís nowhere to be seen.

Everyone wanted to offer them compliments, wish them well. Despite the increase in dwarflings since Thorin had settled them in Ered Luin, they were still a rare sight and to see their King walking among them with his tiny heirs . . . it warmed their hearts. Especially young Fíli. He was such a bright eyed child with such striking coloration. His golden hair rare enough on its own but when coupled with the strange blue eyes of the line of Durin . . . he was a gorgeous child. They had also never seen his hair braided before and had to admit that the traditional braids of the line of Durin became him. He looked every inch a prince as he stood beside their king, clinging to Thorin's cloak and looking up at the warily.

But even if Fíli drew their attention better, Kíli was not to be ignored in the admiration either. He was no less heartwarming. None of them could hold in their fond smiles at the way that the youngest heir clung to his uncle as the crowds pressed in on them and looked through the curtain of Thorin's hair with shy brown eyes. It was clear that there was love there as the king unconsciously soothed the overwhelmed child.

Thorin tried to wait patiently for the crowd to disperse on their own, but in the end it took Thorin's firm statement that he had promised the boys that they were going on an outing not that they were leaving the house to be gawked at to clear the crowds and allow them to pass through the market and continue their trip to the front gate.

"There were so many people," Kíli breathed once they were clear, still clinging to Thorin desperately. "They don't get that close when we come to market with Mother."

"They meant no harm, Kíli," Fíli said simply reaching up to pat his brother's back comfortingly. "They were just curious. Mother warned us this might happen, remember? Uncle is King, after all."

"It wasn't him they were staring at," Kíli argued. "It was us. I could tell."

"It was not, Kíli," the blonde argued. "You're being oversensitive. Isn't he, Uncle? That never happens when we go to market. If it was us they were staring at it would be a normal thing not just because are with you. Right, Uncle?"

"He's not being oversensitive," Thorin corrected. "It was because the two of you were with me that they reacted the way they did. I am not mobbed every time I leave the house. I would never get anything done if that were the case. However the three of us together . . . we are a peculiarity—the King and his two heirs without their Lady Mother—and that is what drew the crowd." Thorin sighed at the fact that the crowds had upset his nephews so but he had known that it was a possibility. He had told Dís that keeping the boys sequestered in the house as much as she did would be a mistake as they grew too large to do it. Their visits outside were too infrequent for the people to get their fill and allow them to be children rather than oddities. He would have to speak to Dís about taking the boys on more frequent outings. He had a small excursion coming up, perhaps they should come with him.

It was simply trade negotiations in Bree. Surely they would enjoy a few days camping. The risk of danger was low, there had been no orc sightings for months. And it _would_ give Dís a bit longer of a break from their antics. He saw no problem with his plan. Fíli was old enough to begin to learn how to negotiate and Kíli . . . well Thorin could not in good conscience leave him with Dís after the promise he had just given the lad. With a sigh he realized that that particular excursion would have to wait. He could not take Fíli from Kíli for such a long time and Kíli was not yet old enough to make such a trip. Dís would skin him alive for even suggesting that he take her boys with him to Bree. He shuddered slightly at the image his mind conjured of his sister wielding an axe.

"It's not that cold out, Thorin," Dwalin said with a laugh clapping his king on the shoulder that did not have Kíli clinging to it. "In fact it is a nice day. What brings you to the gate. I'd thought that you were planning to spend the next few days at home with Dís and the lads."

"I may not be at home but I am spending time with the lads," Thorin laughed nudging Fíli out from behind him and towards his cousin. "They and I are going out today. Giving Dís a bit of time to herself."

"And time free from the menace of young sons," Dwalin said ruffling Fíli's hair despite his braids. He was a bit too rough, not accustomed to being around children, and nearly knocked Fíli over. At the child's shocked cry Dwalin steadied him before he scooped him up and placed him on his hip just as Thorin had Kíli.

"So," he said to the dwarfling in his arms, "your mother thought you needed braids, eh?" When Fíli wrinkled his nose in displeasure at his newest adornment, Dwalin laughed and tugged gently on one of them. "Don't worry, lad. You'll get used to them and in time come to love them. They may save your life someday, Fíli. Hair in your eyes is a dangerous thing in battle. That's what I keep trying to tell your uncle. But he never listens to me."

"Is that why you have no hair, Mister Dwalin?" Kíli asked shyly. His eyes wide with the innocence of a child that does not realize he has asked an impolite question.

"Kíli!" Fíli hissed from his position in Dwalin's arms before looking up at the warrior with pleading blue eyes. "He didn't mean it, Mister Dwalin. Please don't be offended." But Fíli needn't have worried. Dwalin was not offended by Kíli's question, rather, he found it amusing. That child had spirit. Most of the other children in the village were at least a bit intimidated by him.

"Don't worry, laddie," Dwalin assured Fíli as he reached across to ruffle Kíli's untidy mop of hair, "I'm not so easily offended that a curious dwarfling can do it. And that's part of the reason, lad. The other is a bit more vain, I'm afraid. How else am I supposed to show off my tattoos?" Thorin snorted at Dwalin's lie. He knew that the other dwarf had gone bald through no choice of his own and had gotten the tattoos as a way of making up for his baldness, but if Dwalin wanted to lie to the lads. . . well, in truth Kíli should not have asked such a personal question.

"Anyway," Dwalin continued turning back to Thorin, "what brings you to the gate? I know you said that you and the boys are going out but did you mean _out_."

"I did," Thorin replied. "I think that a little time outside the walls would do them some good. It's been quiet lately and I am sure that I can protect two dwarflings. The most ferocious thing that has been reported lately was a _squirrel_." The boys exchanged excited looks. They were going outside? They'd never been outside before.

"Give me a moment to talk to Balin and I'll come with you," Dwalin said with a smile. "It's about time for another patrol and it will be far more interesting with you three than alone. You and I may even find time to slip in a bit of a spar. You wear that thing all the time but I do have to wonder if you still know how to use it or if the only thing that you know how to wield anymore is a hammer."

"I can still use a sword," Thorin replied testily. "If I didn't have the boys with me I would be more than happy to show you just how skilled I still am." In response, Dwalin snorted.

"Fine, Thorin," he said snidely, "use the lads as an excuse. We all know the truth about you, don't we lads?"

"What truth is that, Mister Dwalin?" Fíli asked in confusion. He knew many truths about his uncle and wasn't sure just which one Dwalin was referring to.

"Why that your uncle is unable to defeat me!" Dwalin replied with a laugh. "It is understandable, of course. He is getting up in years. How old are you now, Thorin?"

"My age is irrelevant," Thorin growled wondering why he had decided to take the boys out of the city at all. He should have known that Dwalin would take this as an invitation to tease him, knowing that he would be hampered in his ability to respond by the presence of his two young, impressionable nephews.

"And they are not an excuse, they are a responsibility," Thorin countered. "If I was to consent to spar with you who would watch the boys and make sure that they stay out of trouble while we're occupied, hm? Do _you_ want to be the one to tell Dís that her boys—the things that she prizes most in this world—were injured on your watch? I know that I don't."

Dwalin had to admit that he did not relish the idea of telling Dís that he had allowed her boys to be injured. Thorin's sister had a temper where her boys were concerned. His own mother had been the same way. All dwarf mothers were. And fathers for that matter. Even though Thorin spoke of responsibility to Dís, he knew that Dís' reaction was truly only secondary. Thorin would never forgive himself if something happened to the boys on his watch. Not after Frerin. Dwalin knew that Thorin still carried guilt for his younger brother's death and knew that if anything happened to the boys Thorin would never recover.

"Nor do I," Dwalin replied. "What if I convinced Balin to come with us and watch the boys?" Thorin sighed at his friend.

"That doesn't solve the problem, Dwalin," Thorin said. "I came here to spend time with the boys, not you. I can't leave them to play with Balin while you and I do as we will. That is not what I promised them. You are welcome to come with us but there will be no sparring." Dwalin nodded, not willing to fight with Thorin .

"I will still come," Dwalin replied setting Fíli back on the ground. "And I'll still convince Balin to come along. It's been too long since he got away from his desk and relaxed. The boys will be good for him."

"They will," Thorin agreed. "We'll go on ahead and you two can catch up with us. We're only going to the tree line." With that, Thorin placed Kíli next to his brother and moved to the smaller gate that was designed for the passage of dwarves rather than wagons and slid back the bolt before opening it and preparing to lead his nephews out of the city.

"I need the two of you to promise me something," Thorin said kneeling before them and taking one of each of their small hands in his own. "I need for both of you to agree to stay in sight of me or Dwalin at all times. You can't go wandering off. Agreed?" The boys shared a look knowing that their outing—and all future outings—was contingent on them agreeing to this arrangement.

"Yes, Uncle," they said in unison.

"Good lads," he said patting Kíli's cheek and Fíli's shoulder before standing and gesturing to the open door in blessing. With twin peals of laughter, the boys were out the gate and into the sunshine. He had no choice but to smile as they frolicked in grass that was nearly as tall as they were; the only thing giving their positions away Fíli's golden braids and Kíli's dark wild mop. When they finally reached the tree line, Thorin sat against a tree and watched as the boys played. It was a bit rough, as boys that are outside and out of sight of their mother are wont to play but there was no harm in it. Fíli was being careful with Kíli, cognizant of his large size and strength, and Thorin saw no harm in letting the boys play however they wished without Dís hovering over them. He was just allowing himself to relax when the sounds of footsteps alerted him to the approach of another.

Before he thought about it, he was on his feet between the boys and the new arrivals, sword in hand. He sighed as he saw Balin and Dwalin standing there with amused expressions on their faces.

"A bit tense, Thoirn?" Dwalin asked nudging the flat of Thorin's sword as he walked past and integrated himself in the game by scooping Kíli up from behind and dangling him upside down causing a startled squeal to come from the dwarfling.

"Help!" Kíli cried in mock fear. "Save me Fíli!" Thorin smirked as Dwalin then found himself assailed by a vicious little golden blur of dwarfling attempting to 'save' Kíli. He could have told Dwalin that would be the outcome of 'attacking' Kíli. Fíli was quite protective of his brother even when there was no real danger, as was Kíli with Fíli. Their mutual protectiveness would serve them well when they did eventually see battle. His face fell at that last thought and suddenly his nephews'' antics no longer held the same amusement they had moments before.

"They'll be alright, Thorin," Balin said looking up at his cousin with a smile. "They've got you. Dís. Even _Dwalin_ is enamored with them. They'll be alright."

"They might," Thorin agreed with a snort as he watched Dwalin trip and fall as he tried to avoid stepping on Fíli—only managing to roll himself in the air at the last moment so as not to squish Kíli and releasing the dwarfling in the process. At which point Dwalin then had to contend with twin blurs of dwarflings.

"They might be fine but what of your brother?" Thorin smirked as he watched the warrior cower from two dwarflings. He knew that Dwalin could easily escape but that he only restrained himself for fear of hurting the little ones attacking him.

"Thorin!" Dwalin said desperately as they began to tickle him, "call them off!" Thorin waited another moment before he ruined their fun. He was enjoying the sight of Dwalin being defeated too much to end it. He was still a bit agitated with his friend for his comments at the gate and it only seemed fair to Thorin to get his revenge vicariously through Fíli and Kíli as he was unable to take it himself. It was only when Dwalin called his name once more that Thorin sighed.

"Alright, lads, that's enough," Thorin said firmly. "He's had enough. You two play with one another for a bit and give poor old Dwalin a rest." Kíli and Fíli immediately left the warrior alone and turned their attention back on one another, Kíli launching himself at his brother and pulling them both down with his momentum only for Fíli to end up on top, pinning the smaller brother below him and tickling him causing Kíli to squeal.

"Are they always so . . . " Dwalin gestured at the two wrestling dwarflings to allow them to say what he was unable to put into words. Thorin snorted.

"This is _tame_," Thorin scoffed. Watching as Fíli freed his brother and allowed Kíli to try to attack him again. "Usually Fíli is worse than Kíli when it comes to energy levels. Those two . . . they could power a forge."

"Try the entire settlement," Balin said with an indulgent smile as Fíli took down his brother once more. "I don't ever recall having that much energy."

"We didn't," Thorin replied sadly. "Well, you and I might have but Dwalin never had that luxury. Uncertain times don't make for energetic dwarflings when dwarflings do happen. So much stress and uncertainty. That is no way for a child to grow up. Nor should any child ever have to go hungry. Far too many did when we were growing up."

"None of ours do now, Thorin," Balin replied gently. "You see to that. None of our children go hungry. Even if some of them _look_ like they do." That last was said with a pointed glance at Kíli, who currently had one spindly little leg in the air trying in vain to wrap it around his brother and roll Fíli off of him again.

"I swear that we feed him," Thorin sighed. "He . . . he just won't put on weight. He eats more than I do and he just . . ." he gestured at his nephew with a frustrated sigh. "He is just so _thin_ especially next to his brother. The people are going that think that Dís and I only feed Fíli."

"They'll think nothing of the sort!" Balin replied affronted. "They know better than that! They know you to be a good King and a good uncle besides. They know you wouldn't starve one of those lads! Besides, even if they didn't know you they know Dís. She would never allow it."

"Speaking of things that Dís won't allow," Thorin said changing the track of the conversation away from his skills as a king and uncle as the topic made him uncomfortable, "you and I need to discuss setting up lessons for Fíli."

"Lessons?" Balin asked in shock. "But the lad's only eleven, Thorin. Surely it's a bit young to start lessons."

"I disagree, Balin," Thorin said simply. "He's quite intelligent. Very mature. He is ready for lessons. I can warn you that he will be a bit of a handful. He thinks remarkably well for one his age. Reasons things through. Don't get into a debate with him like you would a normal child. He _will_ back you into a corner. Does it to Dís and me all the time. If he tries it, acknowledge that it was well reasoned but tell him that is not what you are going to do."

"Intelligent or not he's still a child, Thorin," Balin argued. "How old were you when Thráin began your lessons."

"Kíli's age," Thorin countered. "True, it was mostly to get me out of my mother's hair but I was still Kíli's age."

"So will Kíli be joining Fíli?" Balin asked. "Do I need to plan lessons for the both of them?"

"Of course not!" Thorin thundered. "Kíli's a child! He can delay lessons a while longer. Fíli has delayed them long enough. I will bring him to your office tomorrow." Balin sighed but said nothing. Thorin's tone had left no room for disagreement. Even if he disliked Thorin's decision, Thorin was both his King and Fíli's uncle. Balin could not challenge him in this. He only hoped that Dís could. Fíli was far too young to begin the long trek to adulthood.

**ooOO88OOoo**

**Here we are all, new chapter up! I hope that you enjoy it! This week is BEYOND insane so I have not yet replied to your reviews from the last chapter. I WILL do it I just . . . yeah. And I figured you would prefer a new chapter rather than me hold them until I had time to reply, though I WILL take the time to reply as you took the time to review. It just may take me a bit :/**

**That said, as always, thank you for taking the time to read/favorite/follow this story and an extra special thank you to those of you that took the time to write a review. **

**Stickdonkeys**


	7. Chapter 7

They had been outside for the better part of the morning, the children playing while the adults talked when Fíli's startled cry shocked them out of their blissful mood. Thorin was on his feet in an instant, looking desperately for his nephews and cursing himself for allowing them to play in such tall grass when Fíli's voice came again, panic clear in the sound. His blood ran cold as he recognized a word in the cry: _Kíli_. Something had happened to Kíli. He ran towards the sound of Fíli's voice, fighting back panic as he heard Fíli cry out in pain and reorienting slightly.

He nearly sobbed in relief when he broke through the tall grass and saw Fíli standing uninjured at the tree line. He dropped to his knees beside his nephew—Balin and Dwalin standing over the pair as protectors while Thorin checked on his eldest nephew. As soon as he was certain that Fíli was truly uninjured, he grasped him by the upper arms gently.

"Fíli," Thorin said trying to keep his voice level despite the panic still roaring in his ears, "where is your brother, lad? Where's Kíli?"

"He . . . he . . . "Fíli shifted nervously attempting to look away from his uncle in shame. He couldn't answer that question. Kíli would only be in trouble if their uncle knew where he was. Fíli couldn't bring himself to get Kíli in trouble. He sighed in defeat as he felt his uncle grasp his chin and turn his face back towards him, gently but insistently.

"We don't have time for this, lad," Thorin whispered urgently. "Now, where is your brother?" Fíli opened his mouth to reply when his words were cut off with another cry of pain as he was pegged on the shoulder just above Thorin's hand with an acorn.

"Ow!" Fíli called twisting his head around to glare at his brother, not realizing that he was revealing Kíli's position in the process. "Don't throw things at me, Kíli! Mother said not to!"

"Mother said not to throw things at you in the _house_," Kíli retorted climbing a bit further out on his branch to throw another acorn at his brother, hitting him again.

"Kíli, why are you throwing things at your brother," Thorin said wearily. He couldn't believe that all of his stress was because of a dwarfling who decided to climb a tree and throw things at his brother. They were going to make him grey before his time if he didn't just die outright from the anguish they caused him.

"We were playing war, Uncle," Kíli replied leaping to a different branch that held more acorns for him to throw at Fíli. "I couldn't win on the ground. He's bigger than me."

"So you climbed the tree?" Thorin asked looking up at his small nephew and wincing as Kíli leapt between branches like a squirrel. While he had to admire Kíli's strategizing, he only hoped the boy didn't fall. Dís would murder him if Kíli fell and he would never forgive himself if they boy was injured because he was lax in watching him.

"Are you sure Kíli's a dwarf?" Dwalin asked Balin with a laugh as he watched the child scurry fearlessly from branch to branch. "Looks more like a squirrel to me!"

"Of course he is," Fíli replied viciously, glaring at the large warrior at the reminder of what he had heard in the market the day before. Kíli _was_ a dwarf, his uncle had told him so. "He just doesn't know that dwarves don't climb trees. But Uncle will explain it to him, right, Uncle?"

"Where's the harm of him climbing a tree?" Thorin said with a laugh. "He seems to be good at it. I will ask that you not," he winced as Kíli leapt once more and nearly fell only to grab a lower branch with a laugh and swing himself back up. "Kíli, please don't do_ that_. There's no harm in you being in the tree but _please_ be careful."

"Yes, Uncle," Kíli replied with a small smile of apology before he began scurrying along branches rather than leaping between them. Thorin smiled and shook his head indulgently as Kíli's laughter rang through the air.

"But," Fíli said slowly, not wanting to criticize his uncle but trying to make sense of the difference in the rules for him and Kíli. At his brother's age his uncle had told him that dwarves didn't climb trees. "But, Uncle," Fíli tried again quietly, hesitantly, "You . . . you told me that dwarves don't climb trees. The time I fell. Kíli's a dwarf. Dwarves don't climb trees. So Kíli shouldn't climb trees. Not if he wants to be seen as a dwarf." Thorin merely eyed Fíli as if he had grown a second head. He couldn't understand why Kíli being in a tree would make him less of a dwarf. It wasn't as if Kíli could lose his claim to being a dwarf simply because he was in a tree. The idea was ludicrous.

"Aye, laddie," Balin agreed gently. "That is true enough. Most dwarves do not climb trees but most of us _can._ Even your uncle spent a bit of time in trees as a dwarfling. It was the only place that he could escape Thorin and Dís. They were never very good at climbing."

"What?" Fíli asked in confusion. His uncle . . . hiding from himself? "My uncle?"

"Yes," Balin said with a fond smile as he remembered happier times."Your uncle Frerin was quite a tree-climber in his youth."

"He was?" Fíli asked excitedly. He didn't know much about his mother's second brother but he did know that Frerin had been a true dwarf and had died valiantly defending kin and honor. If he climbed trees . . . perhaps there was hope for Kíli after all.

"Aye," Dwalin added. "I remember one time in particular, he had just irritated Thorin something fierce and in attempting to flee to Dís' protection had awoken her ire as well. Only place safe from them was at the very top of a tree. Thorin was too heavy to reach him and Dís . . . well she was never much of a climber. In the end, Thráin himself had to coax his youngest son from the tree by threatening to thrash Dís and Thorin if they so much as laid a finger on him. If I remember correctly, they didn't speak to him for _days_."

"What did he do again, Thorin?" Balin asked. "I can't for the life of me remember. All I recall is seeing his golden hair peeking out from the crown of the tree while you yelled insults and curses at him from below and he gloated at you from above."

"It doesn't matter," Thorin snapped, the memory of his brother hurting him more deeply than he could express. How much time had they lost together due to that childish argument and so many others. Time that he could never get back. "Come, little one," he called turning his attention on Kíli. "You've been off the ground long enough for one day. I'll bet that you're beginning to grow hungry." Almost as if Thorin mentioning hunger had summoned it, Kíli gripped his stomach with a grimace and nodded adamantly.

"Then come down from that tree so that we can return to your mother," Thorin said. "I'll wager she has something delicious made just for us."

"Will there be greens?" Kíli demanded. "I won't come down if there are greens."

"Of course there will be greens, Kíli," Fíli sighed in exasperation. "There are _always_ greens. Now get out of the tree! I'm hungry!"

"Hush, Fíli," Thorin said quickly. "You are not helping matters. Let me get him out of the tree." Fíli felt his expression fall even further. He still wasn't sure what he had done to upset his uncle but it was clear that he had done something. Usually such a statement would have come with a soft smile or a gentle pat but not this time. He tried to convince himself that it was only concern for his brother that made his uncle behave so coolly towards him but he knew the truth: he had done something. Something terrible.

He glanced up in hope as he felt a hand cup his cheek and opened his eyes expecting to see his uncle looking down at him with love and an apology but instead it was Balin's dark eyes that met his. It was his gentle smile that tried to reassure Fíli, not Thorin's.

"Don't worry overmuch, laddie," Balin whispered as he pulled his young cousin against his side. "Thorin'll get your brother out of that tree. Everything will be alright." Fíli just nodded and went back to staring at his uncle's profile as Thorin attempted to coax Kíli to the ground. He didn't have the heart to tell Balin that it was not Kíli's self-inflicted plight that had upset him. In fact, realizing that he was upset for having upset his uncle when his brother was in danger—he could still remember the pain of his fall from the tree and he had not been nearly as high as Kíli was now—made him feel incredibly selfish.

"Kíli, please come down," Thorin said. "I am hungry. Your brother is hungry. You are hungry. You can't eat if you are in that tree, so climb down, lad."

"I won't if she's going to make me eat greens!" Kíli countered. "Promise me that Mother won't make me eat them and I will come down."

"Now, lad, that is a promise that you know I cannot make," Thorin replied with a deep sigh. He hated that he could not give Kíli what he was asking for. He did not want to deny his youngest nephew anything. "There are some orders that even I cannot countermand. Your mother is the absolute authority where you boys are concerned. If she says that you have to eat greens, then I am afraid you are just going to have to eat them, little one."

"I don't want to!" Kíli argued. "They taste bad!"

"They do," Thorin agreed. "No dwarf likes them but they are still necessary occasionally. Even we cannot live on meat alone."

"I can try," Dwalin muttered grimacing at the fact that Dís made her sons eat greens. He held his hands up in surrender when Thorin turned to glare at him, his expression clearly stating 'you had best hope that _he_ did not hear you' before a smirk crossed his face and he turned back to Kíli with mischief in his eyes.

"Earlier today you asked Dwalin why he has no hair, do you remember?" Thorin called. Kíli nodded and Balin snorted in laughter that the dwarfling had called his brother out on his baldness. "Ask him about his eating habits. Ask him if he eats his greens."

"Do you?" Kíli asked moving down the trunk of the tree to sit on the one of the lowest branches of the tree. "Do you eat your greens Mister Dwalin?" He wondered why Dwalin glared at his uncle before he answered. Was that a rude question?

"I . . . I do not," Dwalin said, shooting Thorin a look that clearly displayed his displeasure at being used as a tool to convince the lad to do something so undwarvish as eat his greens. That was quite uncalled for.

"Do you see, little one," Thorin said, triumph clear in his tone. "Dwalin does not eat his greens and he is bald. It is possible that the two things are related. Is this a risk you are willing to take?" Kíli gave a little squeak of fright and began to rapidly make his way back to the ground. Kíli was only sure of one thing: he would eat his greens without argument. They thought that he was unaware of what people thought of him, but Kíli knew. He didn't know _what_ they thought exactly, but he did know that Mister Dwalin was not the first dwarf to express doubts on him being a dwarf. He also knew that dwarves were defined by their hair and if eating his greens would ensure that he had enough hair that none would doubt that he was a dwarf, he would eat them all.

He never made it to the ground. When he was little more than six feet in the air, he lost his grip and felt himself begin to fall. He heard the panic in Fíli's voice as he called his name and braced himself for the feeling of hitting the ground. It never came. Instead, he was caught in mid-air, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. Before he could catch his breath, he was pressed against his uncle's chest in a tight hug. He could feel his uncle's beard on his neck as Thorin held him close.

"Don't ever do that again," Thorin breathed, relishing in the feel of a solid, warm body in his grasp.

"Climb?" Kíli asked quietly, his brown eyes sad as he saw just how much he had scared his uncle just then.

"Fall," Thorin clarified. "If you wish to climb and you are good at it, there is no reason you should not. But if you _do_ climb, do so carefully. I cannot bear to lose you or your brother and. . . I may not always be here to catch you if you fall."

"Yes you will," Kíli replied with all the trust and innocence of a child as he snuggled sleepily into his uncle's chest. "You'll always be there when I need you. You won't let me fall."

"I wish that were true, little one," Thorin whispered before pressing a kiss to the top of Kíli's head and shifting him to a more comfortable position in his arms and gesturing with his head to encourage the others to return home. They had only gone a few steps before Fíli stumbled, the excitement of the day beginning to take its toll on the young heir. The second time this happened, Fíli's eyes flew open in shock as the sensation of moving through the air hit him only to stop with him pulled securely against Dwalin's chest as Kíli was pulled against their uncle's.

"I've got you, lad," Dwalin said with a small smile. "Sleep. It's been a long day." Fíli wanted to protest that he was old enough to walk home on his own but when he opened his mouth all that emerged was a wide yawn. Dwalin chuckled and ran a large hand through the unbraided hair at the back of Fíli's head as the dwarfling's blue eyes drifted shut and his head began to lull. He shook his head sadly as he looked between his king and the sleeping dwarflings they both carried. Neither of them was ready for the responsibilities Thorin wanted to give them. Fíli was not even old enough to last through a day of play. There was no way that he was ready for lessons. But he could not challenge Thorin, not about this. He could only hope that Dís could convince him it was a bad idea or that Balin would plan light lessons. He would hate to see Fíli's smile disappear as all of theirs had, weighed down as they had been by war, famine and death. There would be time enough later for Fíli to learn of the evils of the world.

**ooOO88OOoo**

**Sorry about the delay all, school has gotten a bit crazy but I am still trying to keep up! I hope that this chapter was worth the wait. **

**As always thank you for taking the time to read and I would love to know what you think!**

**Stickdonkeys**


	8. Chapter 8

Dís was sitting at the table with her head in her hands wondering just what she had done in her life to make the gods punish her so. She thought that she had been a good daughter, a good sister, a good wife and a good mother. What could she have possibly done to so offend the gods that her sons had to be punished for it? The loss of her father, grandfather and brother . . . while she couldn't understand it, she could bear it. But the loss of her husband, her boys' father, had nearly destroyed her, especially over something so senseless as a mining accident.

He hadn't even had the honor of a swift death in combat. Instead he had died slowly, painfully in his own bed after being crushed due to the negligence or error of another. Or perhaps his own. She never did learn who was supposed to have shorn up that passageway. Not that it truly mattered. He was still dead regardless of who had been at fault. His death had left a hole in her heart that she felt every day as she watched her dear, sweet boys learn things from her brother that they _should_ have learned from their own father if the world was a fair one. But it wasn't. It never had been and it would never change. Dís had learned that lesson long ago. Hardship and loss were excellent teachers.

Even so, it was difficult to see her boys growing and to _know _just how much Gíli would have enjoyed seeing the wonderful dwarves they were shaping into. They did not seem to miss him overmuch, if at all. Though she supposed that it made sense. Fíli had only been five and Kíli barely conceived when their father had died. It made sense that Thorin would be the only father they knew. And she could not truly fault her brother for stepping into the role. She could not even blame him if occasionally he seemed to forget that they were his nephews and not his sons. Not when he would never have children of his own. Even so, she couldn't stop the resentment that bubbled within her when her brother tried to make decisions for _her_ sons.

She always felt guilty for it later, as she did at the moment, when she remembered the way his shoulders had fallen when they had received news that Dwís, the dwarrowdam he had been intending to court, had decided to wed another. The look on his face as he was asked to preside over the ceremony . . . it was on that she would never forget. Unconsciously she stroked the ring that he had given her that day: the one that he had crafted with his own hand for Dwís. That had been forty-four years ago. Thorin had planned to propose to her on his eightieth birthday. It was one of the many things that they never spoke of.

No, most of the time she did not resent allowing her brother the little bit of happiness that her sons could provide him. It was less than he deserved after all that he had done for them. And she knew that she was being foolish in opposing him in this. Schooling would do Fíli no harm. She knew that Balin loved his little cousins and would pace things so that her son was not overly pressed by his lessons but that was beside the point. Fíli . . . he and Kíli were her _world_. She loved her brother but Thorin was already damaged. She could not protect him. But her boys . . . she knew that she could not do it forever but she wanted to shelter them for as long as she could from the cruelties the world was capable of. School . . . it was but the first step to adulthood, to kingship, that her son would take.

Not for the first time she wished that she was anyone besides who she was. That any blood but that of Durin the Deathless ran through her veins. She wished that she was nothing more than a simple dwarrowdam and that the most pressing choices her sons would ever have to make would be what metal to smith a trinket from, or what wood to carve from to create their children's cribs, not that they would one day have to swim the treacherous sea of politics for the good or ill of all. She had watched Thorin struggle under the weight of the crown for years and did not want that for her sweet Fíli or, Mahal forbid, her wild little Kíli. She knew that she was being foolish and could no more change their fates than she could bring back her dear Gíli.

Though if she could, she would. She would give everything she had to ensure them a beautiful future and though it would pain her, she _would_ fight Thorin on this. He would not put pressure on her dear children before it was absolutely necessary. Once more she wished that her dear Gíli was there with her. Even if he had agreed with her brother—which she knew that he would have—she knew that it would have been easier for her to bear with him there beside her. Swallowing around the lump in her throat that his memory brought up she rested her head on her folded arms and tried to convince herself that she was doing right by her sons.

**ooOO88OOoo**

Dís was not aware that she had fallen asleep until she was awakened abruptly by the sound of her door opening and booted feet on the stone floor. Too many feet walking too heavily to be her brother and her sons. As silently as she was able, Dís crept towards the fireplace and the axe that hung over the mantle there. She had a small knife at her waist, she always did, but she could hear three distinct treads and knew that her small knife would never be enough.

She let out a hiss and silently cursed as the axe rasped against the holder as she removed it and prayed to Mahal that the intruders hadn't heard. She was as ferocious as any other in battle but knew that if the intruders were all male she would be at a disadvantage. Not to say that she would not stand a chance, but the element of surprise would be her best ally. Especially if it was Men that were invading her home, as it almost _had_ to be. No dwarf would invade the home of her brother, their king, if only out of fear of his ferocious reputation in battle. _But Thorin's not here, is he?_ her mind whispered. _He was seen leaving the settlement with your children. They know that you're alone._ She shook her head sharply to clear that thought from her mind and set herself up against the wall beside the door that led to the main hallway.

As she heard the footsteps near, she took a deep breath to ground herself and then leapt out of hiding, axe raised and prepared to deliver an attack only to stop with a huff as she recognized the dwarves in her hall.

"Balin," she breathed before letting out a breathless, mirthless laugh. "What . . . Why . . . Thorin's not here. He left with the boys this morning."

"Dís?" She heard her brother ask and looked up to see Thorin eyeing her with amusement. "Why do you have that axe?" His amusement enraged her and she shouldered past Balin, the axe still in her hands, its wicked edge gleaming deadly.

"You think this is amusing, do you?!" she demanded, holding the axe in front of her, her brown eyes flashing with a rage that took Dwalin and Balin by surprise, though Thorin seemed unaffected by it. "You think it's _funny_ to nearly scare me to death?! Because that's what you did, Thorin."

"You were napping, weren't you Dís?" Thorin replied unconsciously shifting Kíli so that his mother could see that to kill her brother might harm her little one.

"What if I was?" Dís demanded, her voice a bit quieter, though no less livid, at the sight of her sleeping child. "I think that I am entitled to a nap occasionally, Thorin! Especially one that doesn't end in me fearing for my life! _Every_ time I try to take a nap you . . ." she trailed off as she realized that Thorin was quivering with laughter instead of fear, as he _should _have been. She let the axe fall to her side and her shoulders slumped in defeat as she realized that she was being foolish.

"I hate you," she whispered but there was no heat in the words and Thorin smiled gently at her as he placed a kiss on her brow.

"I love you too, Sister," he whispered, shifting Kíli to one arm so that he could wrap the other around her. "And I am sorry that I frightened you." She rested her head on his shoulder before she sighed.

"Don't do that to me again," she threatened. "Or next time I _will_ use the axe. I swear it!"

"I'll keep that in mind," Thorin replied before stepping away from her. Dís jumped as she felt a hand land on her wrist and turned to see Balin standing there with a sheepish expression on his face.

"Didn't mean to startle you," he said quietly. "I . . . well, I was going to put the axe back over the mantle before you decided that you want to use it on your brother, lass. As irritating as he is, we do need him. At least until young Fíli is grown. Once that happens, I won't stand between you if you want to exact vengeance on Thorin for everything he has ever done to you."

"Do you hear that, Brother?" Dís laughed, allowing Balin to take the axe. "You may only have another sixty-nine years to live. If _Balin_ won't defend you from me . . . none of your subjects will."

"Don't speak such nonsense," Thorin replied curtly, though his smirk revealed that he was not truly upset. "You cannot kill me. Now stand aside. I'd like to put this little one to bed for a moment. That'll give us time to prepare to feed them without them under our feet for once. What with your nap, the food I promised them you would have is likely non-existent." Dís scoffed at her brother but stood aside all the same, her sharp eyes scanning the hallway and missing the sight of her golden-haired eldest.

"Where's Fíli?" she demanded.

"Don't worry, Dís," Dwalin replied moving out from behind Thorin so that she could see her son curled up in his arms. "I've got him." She smiled at her cousin and nodded to him in thanks. She knew that Thorin loved Fíli but she also knew that her brother had recently begun to overestimate her son's abilities. Thorin seemed to forget that Fíli was still a child. Sighing, she stepped aside and allowed Dwalin to follow her brother into the boys' room.

"Are you and Dwalin going to stay for dinner?" Dís asked looking at Balin with a slightly forced smile. She had missed her cousins but she hadn't planned for so many. There was food enough, but it would be a bit tight on the meat. She knew that Dwalin and Balin would not have any interest whatsoever in the greens .

"No, lass," Balin replied with a sigh of his own. "We have shirked our duties for longer than we should have already to spend the day with Thorin and the boys. Your brother's treaties don't write themselves after all and it is for the good of us all that I don't make our allies try to decipher Thorin's hand more than they already have to. There is that negotiation with Bree next month and I need to get back to drawing up the starting terms for it."

"I understand," Dís replied in a light tone with a smile on her face. "Thorin's nearly useless without us, isn't he?"

"Now, Dís, you know I can't agree with you," Balin replied with a smirk. "Much as I might sometimes like to. Especially when he springs the necessity of lesson plans on me on top of the treaties and agreements he already has me drafting."

"Lesson plans?" Dís asked, her brown eyes narrowing dangerously. Balin suddenly found himself very glad that he had taken the axe from her; she looked nearly murderous.

"Aye," he said slowly. "For Fíli. Thorin asked me to plan lessons for tomorrow, as if I didn't have enough to do what with that treaty." The last was said in a voice that was little more than a whisper and Dís half-imagined that she hadn't heard it at all.

"He did, did he?" She said in a flat tone that was all the more dangerous for its lack of emotion.

"He did," Balin replied hoping that she wasn't going to loose her temper on him. He was only just now realizing that he had been dragged into a fight between Thorin and his sister over her sons. It was a place he had no desire to be; only a fool _wanted_ to be between a dwarrowdam and her children.

"And did my brother happen to mention if I had approved of these lessons?" Dís demanded in the same flat tone. But no matter how she modulated her voice, she couldn't mask the raw furry burning in her brown eyes at the realization that Thorin had had no intention of giving her a vote in this. He had intended to do as he pleased and her desires be damned. The small part of her that had been admitting that he was actually right to send her eldest to lessons was savagely murdered within her by the larger part that was wanting to _hurt_ her brother for daring to make decisions for _her_ sons without bothering to even consider what she wanted for them. They might be his heirs but they were _her_ sons.

"He . . . he didn't," Balin replied just barely fighting the urge to back down the hall rather than face Dís in her fury. "But I can see that he should have. I doubted that you were in agreement on the matter but I was unsure." Dís scoffed in response.

"I do not agree," she said eventually, locking eyes with her brother over Balin's head. "And Thorin is well aware of my position on the matter of the education of _my_ son." Thorin flinched internally at both the ice in her words and the heat in her glare and wondered how two such conflicting states could exist within one person.

"We can discuss this later, Dís," Thorin told her. "The boys are asleep but I don't know how long they'll remain that way. We need to feed them when they wake, Sister."

"There is no reason that we cannot both discuss this _and_ prepare food for _my_ children, Thorin," Dís said, her words dripping with mock sweetness. "I believe that you and I have put off this conversation long enough already, Brother." Thorin was silent, returning Dís' glare with one of his own that she would be so cruel as to pull _that_ card as if he wasn't aware every moment of every day that Fíli and Kíli were her sons and not his own. It hurt that she would cite that in the middle of this argument.

"Well," Balin said clearing his throat uncomfortably at the fury wafting off the siblings, "thank you for letting us spend time with the you and the boys today, Thorin. I think that I'd best be getting back to that treaty now. Dís, always a pleasure," Balin paused to dip his head to her and began edging for the door, push Dwalin forward in front of him. He was almost out when he heard Dís call his name and felt his shoulders droop in disappointment. He'd almost made it.

"Yes, Dís?" he asked turning reluctantly to face the enraged female. "What can I do for you?"

"You can let me have my axe back," she replied with the ghost of a smile. Balin glanced down in shock, only just realizing that he still held her axe in his hand. He only hesitated for a moment before he handed it to her.

"Lass," he whispered before he relinquished his hold entirely, "you do know that I was not serious when I said that you could kill your brother, yes?"

"He'll still be alive when I'm done with him," she promised. "That's all I can guarantee you, but you will still have your king come dawn." Balin nodded in reply and allowed her to take the axe.

"Good luck," he whispered as he closed the door behind him. As he walked away with Dwalin he could only hope that Dís would be victorious. Fíli truly was too young, even if Thorin didn't think so. But if Thorin won . . . well, he was the King. Balin would do as he was asked. After all, it never really hurt to learn something. He would just make sure that something would be easy until he felt that Fíli was old enough to be burdened with more difficult subjects. He may not be able to defy Thorin, but he could always modulate the order to better fit Fíli's tender age.

**ooOO88OOoo**

No sooner had the door closed behind Balin than Dís rounded on her brother. Her breath came heavy as she attempted to control her rage at what Thorin had done that day. Remembering her promise to Balin, and her own lack of true desire to attack him, she leaned the axe against the wall before she began advancing on him.

"I cannot _believe_ you did that, Thorin," she snarled. "What happened to "we'll talk about this later, Dís,"? _That_ didn't seem like you wanted to talk about it later. Asking Balin to plan lessons! That sounds like you will do whatever you like and my views on the matter don't count for anything!"

"Dís," Thorin tried to say making small shushing motions with his hands. "The boys, they're sleeping, Dís."

"That's right, Thorin," Dís snapped. "They're sleeping! You had them outside for little more than half a day and they're _sleeping._ _Fíli_ is sleeping. The same little dwarfling that you want to confine to a classroom tomorrow for an indeterminate amount of time is _sleeping_ after half a day playing with his brother. Durin's _beard_, Thorin! What are you thinking!?"

"He's not as frail as you seem to think, Dís," Thorin countered. "Yes, he's sleeping but their play was rather rambunctious. Schooling will hardly tire him out as much. It is much less stressful."

"Physically!" Dís retorted. "Thorin, he's not going. He's too young and I won't allow it. I don't care if you are king, as far as my sons are concerned I am god and a god trumps a king. You will not do this, Brother."

"I was younger," Thorin countered not liking that she would remind him yet again that they were her children and not his anymore than he had the first time that she had done it that evening. "I was Kíli's age when Father set me to lessons the first time."

"Father did _many_ questionable things when it came to what he should allow children to do, in case you have forgotten," Dís replied coldly despite the anger that was flooding hotly through her veins and causing a flush to rise up her face. "Do _not_ cite him to me as a role model when it comes to what you intend to do with my children, Thorin. Would you also tell me that Kíli is old enough? Or that Fíli should begin training with a sword as you did at his age?"

"Dís, you can hardly compare me sending Fíli to lessons to what our father set children too," Thorin snarled, angered that she would dare to compare him to the dwarf that had sent children into battle and led to the death of his own son in the process. "I would _never_—"

"I know you wouldn't!" Dís thundered. "_I_ would never allow it! Just as I won't allow this, Thorin! Fíli is _not_ going to lessons. Not until he is fifteen. I _will not_ budge on this. You _will not_ force this on him before he is ready."

"Damn it, Dís!" Thorin shouted in reply. "I understand that you fear for him. I do. But you cannot delay this forever. What will happen when he turns fifteen? Will you ask me to wait until he is twenty? You're doing him no favors, Sister. Delaying his education will only make it more difficult for you both when the time comes."

"Don't you _dare_ tell me how to raise my children, Brother," Dís breathed. "I neither want nor need your advice. I will make the choices for them that I feel are the best and you _will_ respect my wishes. If not, I am sure that Dáin would be more than willing to allow us to live with him in the Iron Hills. _He _will not dare to try to impose his will on my sons." She regretted the words the moment they left her mouth and she saw her brother flinch as if she had struck him. She knew that he loved her boys and that what she had said had been below the belt, but she did not take it back. Instead, she stood there, staring at him levelly and trying to pretend that the pain in his eyes as her threat did not rip out her heart.

"Would you truly take them from me, Dís?" Thorin finally breathed. "Is this truly so important to you that if I forced your hand you would leave me? Would you truly take _children_ across the breadth of Arda to the Iron Hills just to protect them from me?"

"Do you really have to ask?" Dís asked, not willing to say that she would not but unable to say that she would not. They both knew that she wouldn't do it, but the threat still hung between them. As she watched her brother's shoulders slump in defeat she felt no satisfaction at her victory, only nausea coiling within her at the tactic she had used to win. She had never thought that she would use her children as a bargaining chip against Thorin and she hated that she had.

"Then have you way in this matter," Thorin whispered, turning to go to his own room. Dís saw him wipe angrily at his eyes and wondered, with a pain that bordered on physical, if she had made him cry. "I will not fight you in this. Fíli will go to lessons when you deem him ready and not a day before. I will not lose you, even if I do believe you are making a grave error."

"Thorin," Dís breathed reaching for him, her eyes soft once more in penance. "I—"

"No, Dís," Thorin replied batting her hand away. "I understand. I overstepped myself and you showed me the error of my ways. Thank you for allowing me what privileges you do where _your_ children are concerned. Forgive me for occasionally forgetting that I have no real claim to them. I will just have to remind myself more often that they are not actually my sons. Good night, Dís." She winced as she heard his door slam shut behind him and the bolt slide into place. He only rarely bolted the door and it was never good when he did. Cursing herself vehemently for her indelicate treatment of her brother, Dís walked slowly into the kitchen and began preparing food for dinner.

She was so distracted that she managed to cut herself for the first time in years. Rather than immediately stop the flow, she instead watched the ruby liquid flow from the gash. _Strange,_ she thought dismally._ Strange that so much fuss is raised over so simple a thing. _She thought about all the blood she had seen over the years, most memorably that of her dear Gíli as he lay dying in their bed. His blood hadn't looked any different than hers did. And hers looked just like Thorin's and her sons. If all of their blood had been the same, despite Gíli's lack of lineage, she couldn't understand what all the fuss was about with the blood of Durin flowing in their veins. Was it not red just as any other dwarf's? What was so special about it that it would cause her family such pain? As she watched her own heart's blood flow, she couldn't help but despise it.

**ooOO88OOoo**

**That's it this time y'all. I hope you enjoyed it :) Thank you for taking the time to read. I would love to hear what you though!**

**Stickdonkeys**


	9. Chapter 9

Thorin did not come to dinner that night. As Dís and the boys sat at the table, his empty place was glaringly obvious, as was the affect that his absence had on Fíli. Dís watched her eldest son with concern as Fíli kept shooting furtive glances at his uncle's empty place before looking down at his own plate in what almost appeared to be shame. She couldn't understand it. Why did Fíli feel shame? She was trying to decide how to broach the topic with her young son when he took matters into his own hands.

"Mother, where's Uncle?" Fíli asked, his small brow furrowing as he examined the room as if Thorin would materialize out of nowhere. "Did he go away again? He didn't say goodbye? He always says goodbye."

"No, Darling," Dís promised as she spooned vegetables onto Kíli's plate, wondering at the eagerness she saw in his eyes as he tucked into them. She wondered where it had come from but pushed in from her mind in favor of answering Fíli's questions. Kíli deciding to eat vegetables was not cause for concern, Fíli's being upset was.

"Your Uncle is in his room," she continued he explanation knowing that her oldest liked to have more information than a yes or no answer. "He hasn't gone anywhere. Won't for a couple of weeks."

"Oh," Fíli replied, his confusion still clear in his tone. "Isn't he hungry? He told Kíli that he was hungry. Did he already eat?"

"I don't know," Dís said sadly, feeling a bit bad for lying to her son. She knew that Thorin hadn't eaten. He hadn't left his room since their argument. "He hasn't spoken to me since just after you returned from your outing. I'm afraid he's a bit miffed with me."

"No he's not," Fíli whispered, looking away from his mother in shame. "He's upset with me."

"Oh, Fíli! He's not! He never could be," Dís promised, her heart breaking that her son could think for a moment that any of this was his fault when it was her own. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"It's nothing, Mother," Fíli replied still refusing to meet her eye. "He . . . it's nothing. I'll just figure out what it was and not do it again." It was clear to Dís that Fíli didn't believe that it was nothing. He was deeply bothered by whatever had happened when he had been out with Thorin that day. She didn't know what had happened, but she intended to find out.

With a sigh, she sat the bowl of greens back on the table, noting that Kíli reached for it and added more to his plate almost desperately, before kneeling beside Fíli and placing a gentle hand on his cheek. She turned his head to face her and felt her heart break and tears sting her eyes at the confusion and pain in his young blue eyes.

"Tell me," she commanded gently stroking his downy face with her thumb. "You can tell me anything, my little ray of sunshine. What happened, sweetheart?" She watched as her son swallowed heavily and took a deep breath before his eyes filled with tears and the incident spilled from him all in a rush.

"I ... when we were out today, Kíli climbed a tree," Fíli explained. Dís eyes flicked to her youngest who flinched a bit at the heat in his mother's gaze but offered her a small smile and popped another carrot into his mouth. She wanted to glare at him but Fíli was still talking and she returned her full attention to him. There would be time later to talk about to Kíli about his tree-climbing.

"—and I don't know what I did," Fíli was saying tears beginning to choke his words, "but I have to have done something. Uncle has never been so cool towards me before."

"Oh, Fíli," Dís sighed pulling her son against her and stroking the unbraided back of his hair. "Your uncle was probably only short with you because he was worried for Kíli's safety. He didn't mean it, my darling. Thorin loves you. He thinks of you as his own," she promised trying to tamp down her own guilt at what she had said to her brother earlier.

"I. . .I know that," Fíli sobbed. "I know he loves me but . . . Mother, I . . . he was short with me _all_ day. Ever since I asked to take out my braids. Was that it? Was that what I did wrong? Was he upset because princes should wear braids and I was not giving my place the respect he felt it was due?"

"Fíli, my dear sweet boy, your uncle was _not_ irritated with you," Dís promised. "_I_ am the one he is cross with. He is not used to being told no and I did that this morning and again this evening. He is not angry with _you_, Fíli. You did nothing wrong. You're still too young to be forced into braids, save for on special occasions."

"All the same," Fíli said, his tone revealing that he was unconvinced by his mother's words, "will you redo them before I go to lessons tomorrow with Mr. Balin?"

"You do not have to go to lessons tomorrow, Fíli," Dís replied doing her best to keep her irritation with Thorin out of her tone. The last thing she needed was Fíli thinking she was irritated with him. "There is no need yet. Your uncle and I talked it out and you will begin lessons on the day after your fifteenth birthday. Don't worry, Fíli."

"But . . . Uncle wanted me to go to lessons," Fíli said in confusion. "He said as much. I . . . I don't—"

"I talked him out of his foolishness," she replied simply. "You do not need to go to lessons tomorrow. We have decided." Suddenly Fíli knew what his mother and his uncle had fought about: it was him and whether or not he would go to lessons. He hated to be the cause of the rift between them. It was not fair. Not over this. He tried the one thing that he could think of to fix it.

"But . . . Mother, I . . . I _want_ to go," Fíli said, feeling quite proud of himself when his voice did not quiver. "I want to go to lessons."

"What?" Dís asked in shock. Surely Fíli was not serious! There was no way a child would _want_ to go to school. She remembered when she had been sent to be educated. It had take both the coercion of her brothers and the threat of punishment from her father if she disobeyed to get her to comply and neither Thorin nor Frerin had behaved any differently.

"I want to go," Fíli repeated, his gaze steady. Dís sighed. She hadn't thought to factor Fíli's wishes into the matter. He may be a child but he was old enough to make such small decisions, as Thorin had pointed out, her son was intelligent. If Fíli _wanted_ to go . . . it changed things.

"You want to go?" She asked again still skeptical of her son's sudden conviction to go to lessons. "Your uncle didn't convince you to say that to me, did he?"

"Uncle and I didn't talk about lessons today," Fíli replied. "We . . . we didn't really talk at all." Dís closed her eyes and sighed.

"If you are sure this is what you want," she said eventually staring into her son's blue eyes and trying to see a lie in them. There was none, Fíli _wanted_ this. "I will have your uncle take you to Balin in the afternoon. You do not have to do this, Fíli. If you get there and change your mind you are free to come home. Until you are fifteen, you are only going because _you_ want to. Neither I nor anyone else will not force you to until then. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mother," Fíli answered. "But don't worry. I want to go. And . . . before I do can you redo my hair, please?" Dís nodded sadly with another sigh and hugged him tightly to her before pressing a kiss to his brow and standing to finish passing out dinner. When she reached for the bowl of vegetables that she had sat down to comfort her eldest, she found it empty. She looked under the table with a bemused expression wondering if Kíli had tried to get rid of them while she was distracted: there were no vegetables there.

"Kíli," she said slowly as she came back out from under the table, looking at her youngest in her best 'don't-lie-to-your-mother' face, "darling, where are the vegetables."

"Eated," Kíli replied, holding his stomach with his face twisted into a grimace.

"Eated?" Dís asked in confusion. "Kíli . . . did you eat _all_ of the vegetables!?" Her son nodded and she felt a laugh force its way up her throat. "Why on earth would you do such a thing, you foolish dwarfling!?"

"Don't want to go bald," Kíli muttered miserably before he curled around himself with a whimper holding his stomach. Dís sighed and sat down beside Kíli to smooth his wild hair from his brow. He wasn't running a fever, he'd just eaten too much. Content that her child was not _actually_ ill, Dís continued her questioning.

"You don't want to . . . how are those two things related, Kíli?" Dís asked trying to piece Kíli's logic together and drawing a blank.

"Mr. Dwalin," Kíli said as if it explained everything.

"Kíli," she sighed in exasperation, "You need to give me more information, son. I don't understand what you're trying to say." Rather than speak again, Kíli whimpered and curled into her.

"Stomach hurts," he muttered nuzzling her as if that would stop the pain. She wished that it would.

"That happens when you eat too much, Kíli," Dís said simply. "Can you tell me what prompted you to eat so many vegetables. You don't even _like_ vegetables, Kíli!"

"I don't want to be . . ." Kíli trailed off as he began looking decidedly green. Knowing what was going to follow, Dís snagged the bowl off the table and held in under Kíli's chin just as he retched. Once he finished he looked at her with a miserable expression on his face and tears in his brown eyes and it was everything that she could do not to laugh. She knew that was the wrong reaction but . . . at any rate she managed to contain it. She tried to disentangle herself from Kíli to dispose of the contents of the bowl but he refused to release her and seemed unwilling or unable to explain his strange logic.

"Fíli?" she asked, hoping that her oldest could give her some insight into the crazed ramblings of her youngest.

"It was how Uncle got him out of the tree," Fíli explained, coming over to stand beside his mother and brother now that he had been invited. "Kíli refused to come down if there were going to be greens and Uncle pointed out that Mr. Dwalin does not eat his greens and is bald and _hinted_ that the two things might be related." Dís nodded. That made a good deal more sense.

"Darling," she whispered stroking Kíli's hair, "eating greens has nothing to do with growing hair."

"Are you sure?" Kíli demanded.

"No," she admitted with a shrug. "But Thorin never ate greens growing up and he has a respectable amount of hair, doesn't he?" Kíli nodded before a frown crossed his face once more. Dís began looking for a new bowl in panic, knowing that this one was not going to be enough if he vomited again only to stop when he said the words that nearly ripped her heart from her chest.

"I'm still going to eat them," he said. "I don't want people to think I'm not a dwarf because I don't have hair."

"Darling, you'll grow hair," Dís promised. "You're still a child. People forget because you're so tall but . . . it'll grow in time."

"Do you promise?" Kíli asked, looking up at her with tear-filled, hopeful brown eyes. And Dís gave him the only answer that she could, even if she knew that it was possible that she was wrong.

"I promise," she said. She only hoped that it came in sooner rather than later for Kíli's sake.

**ooOO88OOoo**

The next morning, Thorin had still not left his room as far as Dís could tell. She had intended to allow him to come out on his own, but his continued absence was upsetting the boys. They could sense the tension in the house and they were fidgety and cross, Fíli actually going so far as to snap at Kíli for bothering him. It was then that Dís knew she had to do something.

"Go outside and play boys," she said with a smile. "Stay in the yard and Kíli, stay out of that tree. Fíli, make sure he does." She waited for them to nod their understanding before she shooed them out the door. With a sigh, she turned to go back into the house and confront her brother. She took a deep breath before she raised her hand and rapped sharply on his door.

"Thorin!" she called. "Open this door!"

"Go away, Dís," came the muffled reply.

"I'm not going away," she called back. "Now you either open this door or I _swear_ I will break it down! You can't just mope in there. The boys miss you, Thorin. Come out!"

"Go away!" he snapped. "You made your point last night, you don't need to come here and gloat!"

"I'm not here to gloat!" She yelled. "Now open up!" There was no reply this time and Dís felt herself begin to lose her temper with her brother. He was acting like a _dwarfling_! And she was done negotiating.

"Thorin, I'm getting the axe," Dís threatened. "If this door isn't open by the time I get back I _will_ open it." She had just turned to make for the kitchen when she heard the bolt slide open, though the door itself was not opened. Taking another deep breath, she wondered just how bad it would be this time and slowly opened the door. Her eyes took in the darkened room and she heaved a sigh of relief. She'd seen worse. At least nothing appeared to be broken this time: save for Thorin himself.

After he had unlocked the door he had laid back down on his bed facing away from her and curled up on his side. She closed the door behind her so that the boys wouldn't see him like this if they came in and moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Thorin, I'm sorry," Dís said reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder and ignoring his flinch at the contact. "I . . . I shouldn't have threatened you the way I did."

"Would you have done it?" he asked, his voice rough. She now knew that he had been crying. "Would you really leave me alone?"

"No," Dís said, fighting back her own tears at her brother's pain. "You know I wouldn't. I love you, Thorin. You just . . . they're children. You need to remember that."

"They're _your_ children, you mean," Thorin said bitterly. "My love for them does not count for anything if you disagree with me on a matter."

"They are," she agreed. "They are my children and you do need to remember that. _But_ I also need to remember that you love them just as much as I do. And they love you. They miss you, Thorin. They're worried about you. And so am I."

"I'm fine, Dís," he replied tersely.

"This is fine, Thorin!?" she demanded. "Moping in the dark is what you consider 'fine'!? I'm afraid I have to disagree, Brother. You need to get up, wash your face and come eat something so that you can take Fíli to lessons this afternoon."

"He's not going," Thorin muttered. "You decided that, remember Dís?"

"I remember," she replied. "And last night at dinner I changed my mind. Fíli _wants_ to go, Thorin. I won't stand in the way of something he wants. _But_ if he changes his mind, I _will_ stand between you and Balin forcing him to continue."

"I wouldn't," Thorin said. "I . . . I can't lose you too. Not after . . ." he stopped and rolled over to face her, tears in his blue eyes. "_Please_ don't take them from me, Dís. I will do whatever you ask but _please_ don't make me lose them. I . . . I don't think . . ."

"Hush," Dís whispered pulling her brother to her chest just as she had Fíli the night before, unable to stop her tears at just what her thoughtless words had done to her brother. "I won't do that, Thorin. I never should have said it. We're not going anywhere. You _won't_ lose us. I promise. I won't take them from you, Brother. I swear it. We're going to stay with you." Thorin said nothing in reply but his arms wrapped around her and his hands clung desperately to the back of her dress as he tried to regain control of himself. Eventually he pulled back with a sniffle, only his red-rimmed eyes revealing what had just passed between them.

He cleared his throat and made to stand. "So Fíli is going to classes?" he asked gruffly.

"He is," she agreed, wiping her own eyes on her sleeve and swallowing heavily to clear her throat.

"And Kíli?" Thorin asked.

"He's going to stay here with me," Dís said. "He expressed no interest in classes. Though I think they would benefit him. Somehow that _insane_ little dwarfling has gotten it into his head that eating greens will stave off baldness and promote hair growth?"

"Has he?" Thorin replied, searching for a clean shirt and pulling his dirty one over his head when he found it and changing right in the middle of the room.

"He has," she answered unfazed by her brother's lack of modesty. "Ate the entire serving bowl full of vegetables last night. Neither Fíli nor I got any. Made himself sick." Thorin snorted with laughter at the mental image of Kíli stuffing himself so thoroughly with greens that he turned green.

"It's not funny, Thorin!" Dís snapped, though the laughter in her voice revealed that she thought it was as well. "He vomited. Nearly on me! If I hadn't thought to grab the bowl . . ."

"I'm sorry, Dís, but I disagree," Thorin said shaking his head indulgently at his youngest nephew's antics. He hoped that Kíli never changed. That child could always make him smile no matter what was going on, even if he could be a bit trying at time with his stubborn nature.

"I'll see what I can do about correcting his misconception," Thorin offered, seeing Dís' mock glare. "I'll go find him now, shall I?"

"Wash your face first," Dís said with a gentle smile. "Won't do for the boys to know that their Uncle Thorin can cry, will it?" Thorin gave a small laugh in reply and nodded. Dís was right. They had no need to know that he had been upset. With that in mind, he placed a gentle hand on Dís' shoulder and gave her a small smile of thanks before he made his way to the bathroom to clean up.

**ooOO88OOoo**

**There we are all, a new chapter of this one! I hope that you enjoyed it. Odds are I will not be getting a new chapter up next week as I have my final exam but the good news is that after that I have 3 weeks free that I can write all I want :) So we will try to get some more chapters sandbagged for once school starts again :) **

**Aranel Mereneth: **** Poor things indeed! and they will. Thorin and Dís have a good relationship. They're quite good at patching things up. Or rather Dís is good at putting Thorin back together again when life gets to be too much for him. Poor thing :(**


	10. Chapter 10

By the time Thorin went to the boys, there were no signs of his earlier distress. He had washed his face and had pushed down his pain. When he opened the door and walked into the yard to find them, he was even able to smile at their antics as Kíli tried to scramble out from under his brother while Fíli pinned him.

"I'll let you up when you admit you lost," Fíli was saying.

"I haven't lost yet!" Kíli was shrieking as he squirmed. "I can still move. I haven't lost yet!"

"You have too, Kíli!" Fíli snarled trying to pin his brother's swinging limbs and nearly allowing Kíli to escape in the process.

"I have not!" Kíli replied. "Uncle always says that if you can move you aren't beat and Mother says if you're still alive it's not over. I refuse to give up!"

"And just how do you plan to get free, little one?" Thorin asked inserting himself into the conversation as he leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed and an indulgent smile on his face.

"Uncle!" Kíli cried happily squirming more forcefully to be free from Fíli's hold, which Fíli allowed with a wry smile as Kíli scrambled to his feet and sprinted to Thorin's waiting arms.

"You didn't come to dinner," Kíli pouted resting his head on Thorin's shoulder. "I thought Mother was wrong and that you had left without saying goodbye."

"I'd never leave without saying goodbye to you, Kíli," Thorin promised placing his cheek on the top of his nephew's head. "Though I am a bit disappointed that I missed dinner. I hear that you gave quite a performance last night."

"He sure did!" Fíli laughed coming over to them cautiously, wondering if his uncle was still angry with him. Thorin seemed calmer but Fíli knew that he could still be angry since he hadn't figured out what he's done wrong to apologize for it yet.

"I didn't know Kíli could be that color!" Fíli added. Kíli grimaced and went a bit green just from the memory, squirming deeper into Thorin's hold and gripping his stomach at the memory of feeling too full.

"I'm sure your poor brother doesn't appreciate that reminder, lad," Thorin said patting Kíli comfortingly and giving Fíli a disapproving look.

"I'm sorry, Uncle, Kíli," Fíli whispered. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

"Apology accepted," Thorin replied patting Fíli's shoulder. "Right, little one?" He bounced Kíli to encourage him to speak at which Kíli muttered, "Apology accepted."

"Tell me, little one," Thorin said, trying to draw Kíli out of the pout he had fallen into, "did you at least learn something?"

"Greens are bad," Kíli said resolutely, his little face crinkled into a scowl.

"Not quite," Thorin said with a laugh. "Try again, Kíli."

"I'm never eating greens again?" Kíli tried hopefully, his brown eyes wide with hope.

"Not that either," Thorin said. "I thought you were determined to eat them to stave off baldness. Which there is no real link to, by the way, little one. To my knowledge greens have nothing to do with hair growth."

"I don't know," Kíli muttered burying his head once more.

"Fíli," Thorin asked turning to the eldest. "Do you know what the lesson _should_ have been, lad?"

"Moderation, Uncle," Fíli answered quietly. "Kíli should have learned that even good things are bad for you if you eat too much of them." Thorin nodded and reached over to ruffle Fíli's blonde hair.

"Aye, lad, that was the lesson," Thorin said with a gentle smile. "Such a bright lad." Fíli practically _glowed_ at the praise. Thorin smiled at him a moment more before clearing his throat and composing his features as he took on the role of King rather than Uncle and began discussing lessons with his heir.

"Speaking of lessons," Thorin said by meaning of transition, "I hear that you've decided to go today." Fíli nodded, his features pinched as he hoped for another smile but his uncle's face remained grave. "Your mother asked me to remind you that you do not have to do this."

"I know that, Uncle," Fíli said quietly. "I _want_ to." Thorin hummed quietly in his throat, pleased at the answer.

"That is very mature of you, Fíli," Thorin said offering his nephews another smile and placing a hand on his cheek. "I am proud of you for making this decision. Your education will be your most important weapon as a King. Swords and axes are important, yes, but if you have the right education you may be able to avoid needing the other two in the first place. This is my first lesson to you, Fíli, as a King to his heir: war is something to be avoided. There are no real winners. Even the victors will have losses. However, if war is unavoidable it is far better to be victorious than to be defeated. Do you understand?"

"Don't seek out a fight but if one happens win?" Fíli asked, his mouth pulling up in a half-grimace as he tried to think through his uncle's logic.

"Very good," Thorin said. "Keep that in mind, lad. It may save your life someday. You too, little one." Kíli nodded and Thorin turned his attention back to Fíli. "Since today is your first day, I will take you to Balin after lunch. In a few hours, no more than three, either I or your mother and Kíli will come for you. You are not to leave without either your mother or me. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Uncle," Fíli replied, nodding to show his complete understanding of the order.

"Uncle," Kíli said suddenly, pulling one of Thorin's braids to get his attention.

"Yes, little one?" Thorin replied turning his attention to Kíli with a wry smile.

"I want to go too," Kíli said, a small whine in his voice.

"What?" Thorin asked completely shocked by this move by his youngest. "What are you saying, Kíli?"

"I want to go with, Fee," Kíli said. "I don't want to be alone all afternoon. I want to go to lessons with Fíli."

"Kíli, you're too young, lad," Thorin said soothingly, though he was more than distressed by Kíli's request. Kíli couldn't go to lessons yet. He was just a child. There was no need for him to learn of the cruelties of the world just yet: even if that cruelty was just mathematics.

"But I _want_ to go," Kíli said. "Mother said that was why Fíli gets to. He wants to go and he gets to, why can't I?" Thorin floundered. He wanted to give Kíli anything he could possibly want but he knew that his sister _would_ use that axe if he told her six-year-old son that he was allowed to go to school.

"Dís!" Thorin called suddenly, trying to push the matter off on her. She was their mother. She could tell the lad 'no.' She was better at that than Thorin at any rate, or so he tried to convince himself. He wished that he hadn't sounded so panicked when he called her as he heard the pot clatter to the table and she appeared in the doorway looking clearly terrified.

"Thorin!?" she called as she rounded the corner. "Thorin, what happened!?" She took in the sight of both of her sons, healthy, fine and with no visible wounds and her heart began to restart.

"Thorin," she breathed, fury just below the surface that her brother had scared her like that for nothing. "What was so important that it merited scaring me nearly to death?"

"I thought you should hear this and deal with it yourself," Thorin said. "Bear in mind, Dís, I did _not_ put him up to it and would like you to talk some sense into him. Tell your mother what you just told me, little one," he said setting Kíli down and nudging him towards Dís. Kíli looked at Thorin, beseeching his uncle to tell his mother for him.

"No, Kíli," Thorin said shaking his head with an indulgent smile. "If you think you're old enough to do this, then you are old enough to ask for permission."

"What are you wanting to do, my darling?" Dís asked kneeling down beside her son and extending a hand in welcome. He placed his own small hand in hers and looked into her eyes.

"I want to go with Fee, Mother," Kíli whispered, looking up at her through his hair. "I . . . I don't want to be alone. If Fee goes then I want to go too. We've . . . we've never been apart before and . . . I don't want to be apart."

"Kíli," Dís sighed pulling Kíli against her. "He'll be back, Son. No more than a couple of hours. You won't even miss him if we time your nap right. You'll never even know he's gone."

"Will too," Kíli muttered nuzzling his mother's neck. "I need Fee to nap, Mother. I can't sleep without him."

"You've never tried, Kíli," Dís replied. "I'll bet you can if you try."

"But what if I can't?!" Kíli asked clearly distressed by the prospect of being without his brother. Dís stroked his hair in an attempt to soothe him and looked to Thorin for help. Kíli idolized his uncle, if Thorin would come down on Dís' side she knew that the battle was won. And she could see that he wanted to forbid it. 'Please', she mouthed. Thorin sighed.

"You can't go, little one," Thorin said firmly. "I'm sorry but you can't."

"Why not?" Kíli demanded.

"Balin won't have anything planned for you to do," Thorin said truthfully. "I only asked him to plan for your brother. Do you want to upset Balin?"

"No," Kíli replied bitterly. "But, Uncle, can't we just ask him? What if he doesn't mind?" Thorin and Dís exchanged a look at the question, Thorin waiting for Dís' approval before he agreed to anything, her threat the day before ringing in his ears. Dís gave him a small curt nod, knowing that Balin would turn Kíli down. He hadn't wanted Fíli to go, there was no way he would accept her youngest.

"Alright," Thorin said. "We can ask Balin. _But_, Kíli, the moment he says no, _if_ he does, you are coming straight home. You're not to argue with him. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Uncle," Kíli said, knowing that if he had convinced his mother and uncle then Mr. Balin would be no problem. And then Dís thought of the one thing that would discourage Kíli from even attempting it in the first place without her having to forbid it.

"Kíli," Dís said, fighting to keep the triumph from her voice a failing a bit. He looked at her, his brown eyes showing apprehension at his mother's tone.

"Yes, Mother?" Kíli said edging towards his uncle. Thorin smirked knowing where Dís was going with this and knowing that she had just singlehandedly won this round without either of them having to upset him. Kíli would refuse to go once she was done. Dís winked at him as she caught his smirk.

"Kíli, if you are going to go to lessons as your uncle's heir—which is what this would be, Son—you have to look the part," Dís said gently. Kíli was shaking his head even before his mother had finished her statement knowing where this was going. "That means braids."

"No, Mother," Kíli whined. "Please?"

"If you don't want to wear them, then I'm afraid you can't go," Dís replied with a shrug and a triumphant glint in her brown eyes.

"Uncle?" Kíli asked turning to Thorin with a plea for clemency in his brown eyes to which Thorin shrugged, fighting the urge to laugh at just how easy Kíli was to defeat.

"You would be going as my heir," Thorin said. "Braids are part of the position, little one. But if you don't want to wear them . . ." Kíli thought about it a moment before he nodded.

"I'll wear them," Kíli said, looking at Thorin. "If you'll do them for me."

"You want _me_ to braid your hair?" Thorin breathed. Kíli nodded. Thorin shook his head with a smile on his face.

"Fine, little one," he agreed. "I'll braid your hair for you. Now, keep in mind that it doesn't mean that Balin will let you stay." Kíli nodded and crawled happily into his Uncle's lap once more. Crisis averted, Dís stood again and walked back into the house, shaking her head and wondering what the people would think of their King if they knew that he could be cowed by a brown-eyed dwarfling. She had just left when she heard something that almost made her go back out and beat her brother senseless.

"Uncle?" Fíli asked his voice bright enough that Dís could nearly hear the smile in his voice. She heard her brother hum his acknowledgment before her son spoke again, "will you redo my braids as well?" There was a pause and Dís nearly sobbed as she knew what Thorin's answer would be before he gave it. Even though she knew that her brother was going to refuse, it still hurt to hear it. The short clipped tone he used with Fíli nearly broke her heart and she understood now what Fíli had meant when he said that Thorin seemed mad at him.

"No, lad," Thorin said. "I'm not very good at braiding, I'm afraid. It'll take me too long to do both yours and Kíli's. See if your mother will."

"Yes, Uncle," Fíli whispered. Dís could tell by his tone that her son was nearly in tears at his uncle's rejection and Thorin didn't even seem to notice. If she didn't know that seeing her drag Thorin through the door and yell at him would only upset Fíli further—and Kíli along with him—she would have done it. As it was, she filed it away for later. She and Thorin _would_ talk about this, even if she did risk driving him away from himself again so soon in the process.

"I . . . I'm going to go in and help Mother with lunch, if that's alright," Fíli said. Thorin must have nodded because only seconds later she heard Fíli's small boots on the steps. He was just inside the door when she heard the first sniffle. Before the first tear could fall, Dís was there scooping her son into her arms and moving towards the kitchen.

"Hush," she whispered into his golden-hair. "Hush, darling. It'll be fine."

"What did I do?" Fíli sobbed. "Why is he cross with me? I . . . I'm going to class like he wanted. What more does he want from me? I . . . what did I _do_?" The last four words contained such anguish that Dís rethought her position on yelling at her brother right now.

"You did nothing, darling," Dís replied setting him on the counter so that she could stroke his back. Fíli was getting too large for her to hold and pet and he needed petting at the moment. When his sobs had calmed a bit, she pulled back a bit and bent so that she could look into his eyes, putting a hand on both sides of his face. The pain and confusion in his blue eyes and tears clinging to his lashes did break her heart. She instantly rethought her plan to simply yell at her brother: she was going to _beat_ him bloody for hurting her son like this.

"Listen to me, Fíli," she said firmly. "You have done _nothing_ wrong, dear heart. Your uncle . . . Mahal bless him . . . Thorin, he goes through spells where he is short with everyone. Even me. This will pass, darling. You'll see."

"Never Kíli," Fíli whispered.

"What?" Dís asked, feeling her eyebrows come together in confusion.

"Uncle's never short with Kíli," Fíli repeated. "You said he's been short with you, and he's been short with me, but not Kíli. He likes him better than he does me. I . . . I don't know what I did to cause it but it must have been something."

"You. Have. Done. Nothing," Dís whispered. "You have behaved just as you should. Any problem Thorin has with you is his own. You've done nothing, Fíli. You have to trust me on this. Your uncle loves you just as much as he loves Kíli. I know it."

"The why has he been so cold to me the past couple of days?" Fíli asked desperately. If he hadn't done anything wrong then what other reason could his mother offer him for his uncle's sudden change. Dís stood and continued to set the table for lunch as she tried to think of an explanation that Fíli would understand as she couldn't see telling him that her brother—his dear uncle—was broken. Finally she came up with an answer. It was a poor one but it was true enough and would convince Fíli until she could convince Thorin he was being an idiot.

"That is just the way of these things, my darling," she said turning back to him with a sad smile. "Thorin . . . he loves you and your brother equally. I know he does. He's only treated you differently the past couple of days because you now know your future. Now he is trying to prepare you for the burden you will someday be forced to carry. A burden that will never be Kíli's; just as it would never have been mine."

"What if I don't want to carry it, Mother?" Fíli asked looking at his hands in his lap. She smiled gently at him and placed her hands on either side of his head and tipped his face up so that she could look into his eyes once more.

"I am afraid that you have no choice in the matter, Fíli," she had replied placing a gentle kiss on his brow. "You are the eldest child of the next generation of the line of Durin. One day you will be king. All that Thorin and I can do is prepare you to take up the mantle when the time comes. If he ever seems too cold or distant . . . bear in mind that he **does** love you, my darling son. Your uncle loves you more than he loves life itself and he is only doing what he believes he must to make you a good king." _Even if he breaks both of our hearts in the process,_ she mentally added.

**ooOO88OOoo**

**There we are all, new chapter of this one out. I hope it was worth the wait! Good news is that now I have three weeks to write without interruptions from school!**

**Aranel Mereneth:**** I'm glad that you loved Dís and Thorin's interaction. And Fíli is a sweetheart. Absolutely breaks my heart :( And I know it wasn't soon but I do hope it was worth the wait!**

**Stickdonkeys**


	11. Chapter 11

After a very uncomfortable lunch where Dís glared at her brother the entire time and Fíli shot anxious looks between them while Kíli ferociously dug into the greens his mother had put on his plate—making sure to set the serving bowl out of reach to prevent a repeat of the night before—Thorin took both of his freshly braided heirs and headed to Balin's office. As was usual, Kíli was situated on his hip and Fíli clutching his hand as they made their way through the market. This day, however, none of the people came near.

Dís' behavior at lunch had put Thorin on edge and there was a nervous energy that radiated from him that gave them a cushion of space. He knew that his sister blamed him for Fíli going and for Kíli wanting to and knew that was why she had been so angry with him. She might joke about needing time away from her little demons but she loved the boys and he knew that she would miss them even in so little time, though she would deny it.

When they reached the building that housed Balin's office, Thorin set Kíli down beside his brother and straightened both of their clothing. When they were smoothed to his satisfaction, Thorin stood once more taking both Kíli and Fíli's hands and leading them in.

"Remember, little one," he told Kíli, "you are allowed to _ask_ if he will let you stay but that is all you are allowed to do. If he says no . . ."

"I come home with you," Kíli muttered. Thorin nodded and knocked on Balin's door. There was only a second's pause and then Balin's voice wafted through the door, telling them to enter.

"Best behavior, lads," Thorin reminded gently before opening the door.

"Thorin!" Balin said, looking up from his paperwork after Thorin and the boys were through the door and missing the children over his desk. "What brings you here?"

"I'm bringing Fíli to you as I said I would," Thorin explained gesturing to his blonde heir with a small smile.

"So Dís couldn't talk so sense into you about this?" Balin said with a sigh standing to come around the desk and better see the lads. They looked quite the picture with their matching braids and clean clothing. Nothing like the wild little dwarflings that had been rolling in the grass the previous day. They were a matched set, one colored like the day and the other like the night. He hadn't spent much time with them but he had to wonder if their personalities were opposites as well.

"Oh she convinced me that he didn't need to come but she didn't convince _him_," Thorin said with a small laugh nudging Fíli gently forward. "Fíli is only here because he wants to be. Neither of us forced him and if he changes his mind we will respect that. It was Dís' ruling on this."

"He _wants_ to be?!" Balin asked incredulously before turning his attention to the boy in question. "Is that true, lad? You wanted to come here today."

"Yes, Mr. Balin, sir," Fíli replied trying to be on his best behavior. "Mother told me I didn't have to but I told her I wanted to. So here I am. Will you teach me?" Balin couldn't help but smile at Fíli's question. With his shy blue eyes and hopeful tone Balin couldn't say no. The boy really was far too cute for his own good.

"Aye, lad," Balin said, his voice and eyes gentle. "I'll teach you."

"And me too?!" Kíli chirped from Thorin's other side. "Will you teach me too, Mr. Balin?"

"Aye, lad," Balin said with a laugh at just how eager Kíli was at the prospect of lessons. The tiny dwarfling was actually _bouncing_ at the idea. He'd never seen anything like it. He rapidly decided that they were opposites: with Kíli being hyper and forward to Fíli's calm shyness.

"Thank you!" Kíli squealed throwing himself at Balin's knees and hugging them. "I so wanted to stay with Fíli and Mother and Uncle said that I can if I agreed to wear braids and you said yes! Thank you!" Balin looked at Thorin in confusion and the King just shook his head sadly.

"Kíli, lad, do you mean _today_?" Balin asked bending down to look at the dwarfling on his level. Kíli nodded enthusiastically, his brown eyes bright and wide. "Surely you would prefer to play outside with your uncle or mother than stay cooped up in here with me, wouldn't you?"

"It's no fun to play without Fíli," Kíli complained. "I want to stay here, with him. With you. Can't I, Mr. Balin? Please?" Balin sighed. With the way the lad was looking at him so hopefully, he couldn't say no. He really did have a soft spot for children and didn't like to tell them no if he didn't need to. Though he _did_ decide that he needed to learn Dís' secret for motivating dwarflings to _want_ to come to class. Oh, the fits he'd seen over the years when parents decided that they needed to school their children. If Dís' secret was marketable, she would make a fortune: and not a small one either.

"Aye, lad," Balin said, shaking his head indulgently. "You can stay." He wasn't prepared for the high-pitched squeal of joy that followed, or for Kíli to throw himself at him, but he couldn't say that he was displeased by it either. He would give the lad one thing: he was enthusiastic.

**ooOO88OOoo**

Dís was sitting on the front steps when Thorin returned home from taking Fíli to school. Her expression was blank but Thorin almost looked as if someone had slapped him. He seemed shocked. Her youngest was nowhere in sight.

"Where's Kíli?" she asked without even bothering to greet Thorin.

"He . . . Balin let him stay," Thorin said sounding just as shocked as he looked.

"Good," Dís replied in a curt voice.

"Good?" Thorin snapped. "He's _seven_, Dís. It very well is _not_ good. I thought you wanted him not to go. What would make you think that this is good?"

"He wanted to be with his brother," Dís replied with a shrug. "Balin will be gentle with him. It's not like we sent him to weapons training. Anyway, I'm just glad that he's not going to be here for this and I don't have to find some way to get rid of him."

"Get rid of him?" Thorin asked, wondering just what had gotten into his sister. She was talking about getting rid of her youngest and she seemed furious. It wasn't as if this were entirely his fault that her sons were in lessons. He had merely suggested it. Fíli wanted to go, Kíli wanted to be with Fíli and Balin had let him. It wasn't like Thorin had drug them to lessons like Thráin had and threatened to tie them to the chair if they wouldn't stay and punish them if they didn't pay attention. They had gone freely.

"Yes," Dís snapped before grabbing Thorin roughly by the elbow and dragging him bodily through the door. Once they were inside, she released him and slammed the front door.

"Dís? What—"

"Don't speak," she snapped. "Don't speak, just _listen._"

"Dís!" Thorin tried again, not understanding what she was so upset about. It was a very rare thing for her to put her hands on anyone like that, let alone him."I—"

"That's speaking, Thorin!" She snarled moving forward to put her hand over his mouth. "You're supposed to be listening." Thorin had the brief, childish impulse to lick her hand before deciding that it was below his station and sighing. "Good," she said pulling her hand back but not moving out of his personal space as she spoke.

"Now . . . I do _not_ know what your problem is with my son," Dís began her voice quivering with furry, "but you need to figure it out and _fix_ it. I _will not_ tolerate you upsetting him like this when he has done _nothing_ to merit your ire. He _loves_ you, Thorin. Worships you, even. I don't know what you _imagine _that he's done, but I can assure you that any—"

"I don't have a problem with your sons," Thorin replied. "With either of them. I don't know what you're talking about, Dís." Dís saw that he looked genuinely distraught at the idea that she believed he did but she didn't care. She'd heard what she heard.

"Then why did you refuse Fíli," she demanded. "All he wanted from you was the same thing that you were giving Kíli. If you were going to refuse either of them I had thought that it would have been Kíli. He asked while being a petulant child and you gave it to him instantly but Fíli . . . he asked _nicely_, Thorin. Why couldn't you just do it? What would it have hurt?"

"Is this about me agreeing to do Kíli's braids but not Fíli's?" Thorin asked. "Dís, you know that—"

"Don't you DARE lie to me, Brother," Dís snarled. "I know for a fact that you can braid. And that you are both quick and skilled at it. Do_ not_ try to tell me the same lie you told my son. Why, I've seen you do your own hair, mine and Frerin's in less than half an hour. You could have done Fíli and Kíli's and _still_ had them there on time and you know it. And even if they weren't there 'on time' you and I both know that Balin wouldn't have cared."

"It wasn't a lie, Dís," Thorin countered. "It's been over a hundred years since I did that. I'm not capable of it anymore."

"Thorin, you're only a hundred and thirty," Dís sighed. "Grandfather could still braid up until the last time I saw him. In fact he did. The night before you all marched off to war he did all of our hair, remember?"

"I remember, Dís," Thorin sighed, closing his eyes and feeling again his grandfather's fingers in his hair as the old dwarf wove both his and his brother's hair into the plaits of their line for war. Dís had gotten a different style, but she had sat and been braided as well. Hers had been braids of hope and victory. Obviously they hadn't held the magic Grandfather had believed they did.

"Then tell me the truth; why didn't you braid Fíli's hair?" Dís asked. "What would it have hurt?"

"I . . . I don't know, Sister," Thorin replied, his brows drawing down as he tried to think through it. "He asked me and . . . I _couldn't_ say yes. I don't know why. I just . . . I couldn't do it. He was standing there looking at me with such innocent eyes but when I looked at him . . . I couldn't do it, Dís. His hair . . .I couldn't bring myself to touch it. Not like that . . . not like . . . not after . . ." Thorin looked away, unable to finish the thought to himself let alone aloud.

Dís slapped him.

She couldn't remember deciding to do it and wasn't entirely sure why she had, but it was clear that she had. The reddened place on Thorin's cheek and the stinging in her own palm were testament to her violence. She drew in a shuddering breath as she stared into Thorin's shocked blue eyes. His hand cautiously came up to his cheek and touched it, wincing slightly at the tenderness he felt there. He was beyond shocked; Dís had _hit _him.

"Dís . . . " Thorin breathed, unsure what he had said to make her strike him. She had only hit him once before and it hadn't been nearly as hard that time as it was this time. True, she had playfully swatted him more than once but she'd never struck him. Not like this.

"You need to find a way to do it," Dís said, tears beginning to flow both from the fact that she had just slapped her brother and at the memory of Fíli's tears. "You have no problem touching Kíli's hair like that. The only real difference between them is the color. The texture is even similar though Fíli's is a bit softer—easier to braid even. I don't know why you can't do it, but you need to figure it out and get over whatever problem you have with his hair." Even as she said that, Thorin's words about Fíli's resemblance to Frerin rang in her ears but she savagely pushed it way. Surely Thorin wasn't so foolish as to conflate the issue.

" You _need_ to figure out a way to bring yourself to show your nephew the love he deserves from you, Thorin. You told me that you need them, both of them, so _show_ Fíli that you need him," She continued. "You can say that you love him all you want—"

"I do, Dís," Thorin protested. "I . . . "

"He thinks you hate him, Thorin," Dís said, knowing that her words would hurt her brother but that he needed to hear them. "He thinks you're angry with him and he blames himself for making you angry."

"Why does he—"

"Because of how you _speak_ to him!" Dís said incredulously. Surely her brother wasn't so dense as to not realize he was treating Fíli differently than Kíli.

"How I . . . I don't speak to him any differently than I do to Kíli," Thorin said. "I even offer him more praise than I do Kíli because he earns it. Fíli is such a bright child, Dís. He's smarter than Kíli."

"You can't compare them like that, Thorin!" Dís exclaimed. "It's not fair. Fíli is five years older than Kíli. Of course he's going to seem smarter. Kíli's not stupid. Foolish, yes, and young but not stupid. You can't compare the two when it comes to their ability to rationalize. And it may turn out that you're right and Fíli is the more rational of the two but we can't be sure yet. And even if he is, it alright. They're each different and Fíli is the sweeter and more sensitive of the two at the moment but he's quiet about it. Kíli is a bit more outspoken and will tell you what he wants but Fíli . . . you've hurt him, Thorin. He'll never come to you and confront you about it like Kíli would, he respects you too much for that, but you've hurt him all the same. And you need to make it up to him. "

"I don't even know what I _did_, Dís," he protested.

"Neither do I," she replied. "Not entirely. But it apparently started yesterday and continued today. I _heard_ you today, Thorin. When you spoke to Kíli you sounded normal but when Fíli had your attention . . . it sounded forced, tense. I can understand why he thinks you're mad at him. Are you?"

"No!" Thorin snapped. "Why would I be? He's done nothing wrong."

"He thinks he has," Dís replied. "Maybe you should let him know he hasn't. Did you know that he went to class today _just_ because he knew you wanted him to? He wants it because he knows that you want him to want it. I didn't confront him about it but I do think that you need to make it clear to him that you are proud of him regardless of whether or not he goes to lessons. All that boy _wants_ is to make you happy."

"I am happy," Thorin replied shocked by that revelation. "He couldn't do anything to change that. He . . . I am proud of him."

"Then _show_ him." Dís sighed. At Thorin's troubled expression, she shook her head and continued, "It's not like I'm asking you to make a grand gesture of your love and pride, Thorin. All I ask is that you behave the same around him as you do around Kíli. Or . . . or do something nice just for him. It doesn't even have to be a big thing, just something especially for _Fíli._ Not something for them both that he just gets to tag along on. I-I don't know. Just . . . just show him that you love him as much as you do Kíli. Please. My heart can't take seeing him so upset. Not by you."

"Alright," Thorin said. "I'll do something nice just for Fíli before I have to go back to work. I'm sorry, Dís. I didn't mean to upset him." He opened his arms to his sister and she walked into them, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I know, Thorin, I know," she whispered. "I know that you love them both. But Fíli's just a child and he's always been so eager to please and worried he failed. Just . . . don't give him cause to think you're angry with him if you're not, please?"

"I won't," Thorin replied. "I'm sorry that I did." Dís nodded and they stood there in silence for a moment before she spoke once more.

"I'm sorry I struck you," she whispered.

"I'll daresay I deserved it," Thorin replied pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I'll just have to make up a better story to explain the bruise. Perhaps a bar fight. Yes . . . three on one, humans. That should do it. Can't have the people knowing that their king was beaten by his sister." Dís laughed and pulled away swatting his arm.

"That wasn't a beating, it was a slap," Dís replied dancing out of the way of his return swat. "But, Thorin, if we have to have this conversation again there will be a beating. You will have to make up an entire _army_ of humans to save your reputation once I'm done with you."

"Understood," Thorin replied. "We won't be having this conversation again, Sister." She nodded and took him at his word. Thorin would watch his behavior around Fíli and she would have no cause to kill her only brother.

**ooOO88OOoo**

**There we are all, a new chapter of this one up :) I hope that you . . . well if not enjoyed it at least were pleased with it :)**

**As always thank you to those of you that took the time to review! They really do keep me writing!**

**Aranel Mereneth:**** Yep ... now it truly begins :( And Kili does continue to be an adorable little brat, doesn't he? And I'm glad that you are loving my take on Dís and protrayal of Thorin :) And to be honest, I do a bit as well. It's a bit easier for me to write as the emotions aren't quite so chaotic but breaking children and setting up the chaos ... it hurts in its own way :/ I'm glad that you are still enjoying this tale!**

**gpgal:**** Hm... I've gotten a few reviews from you. I wonder why the others didn't show ... Anyway, He needs a hug! Poor little dear :( And it was. Dís saw the same danger in that that you do. And when Thorin is actually upset with him it is going to devastate him. And how do you feel about the ThorinvDís confrontation? And she is totally Fíli's champion. That is her baby. And I'm glad that you are loving it and adore the angst. Because it's only going to get more angsty as it goes, I'm afraid :) Thank you for your review, especially since they don't seem to post :)**


	12. Chapter 12

A few hours later, Dís was sitting nervously at their table. It was really too early to begin dinner and she had already cleaned everything in the home until it nearly squeaked under her cloth. She was only sitting because Thorin had threatened, playfully, to tie her to the chair if she couldn't sit still on her own. He had laughed as he wondered if Balin had had to make the same threat to Kíli.

Dís hadn't found it the least bit amusing and had sat down with a huff saying, "If he threatened my baby I will tie _him _to a chair. And it won't just be for lessons." Thorin had wanted to laugh again but stopped at the nearly murderous glint in her eyes, his still tender cheek reminding him that while his sister was not a violent person any threat to her children seemed to bring it out in her. He halfway reconsidered the tradition of dwarowdams not fighting—if _half_ of them were as vicious as his sister they would be more than formidable—before he stopped that line of thinking. War was no place for women. No matter how ferocious they were. His sister didn't need the memories that he, and all that had seen battle, carried. No. Things should remain as they were.

He jerked as she placed a hand on his arm. From the smirk on her face she had asked him a question. He briefly considered trying to answer without admitting that he hadn't heard her, but quickly rejected it. It never did to agree to something that he wasn't sure what he was agreeing to.

"I'm sorry, Dís," he said. "What did you say?" Her smirk only intensified.

"I said, do you think we should go rescue Balin from my little terrors?" Dís repeated, her brown eyes showing just how much she wanted him to say yes.

"I suppose he's had to endure them long enough," Thorin said climbing to his feet. "If I'd just left Fíli I'd say let Balin suffer a bit longer but . . ."

"Kíli can be a bit much, can't he?" Dís said with a laugh as she grabbed her cloak and headed for the door. "Are you coming?"

"I think I'll stay here," Thorin replied shaking his head. "I need to wait until tomorrow to go out at any rate. I can't have made it to a tavern and gotten in a fight since I dropped the lads off this morning, now can I?" Dís gave a sad laugh.

"I really am sorry about hitting you," she said. "I . . . I don't quite know what came over me."

" Don't worry about it, Dís," Thorin said standing and pulling her into another hug."I do not blame you. As I said, I deserved it. If I ever do anything like this again I will take whatever beating you feel like doling out. I truly do love the boys, Sister. I . . . I'm just no good . . ."

"You're fine with Kíli," Dís reminded him. "It's not that you're not good at this. You just need to find common ground with Fíli. I'm sure that you can. He really is an easy child to love, Thorin. And he's quite forgiving, as you once reminded me. He loves you. Apologize to him and do something kind for him and he will forget this ever happened. Trust me." Thorin nodded and freed her, nudging her towards the door.

"Go rescue our poor cousin," Thorin said, his voice a bit huskier than normal. "They may have already tied him to his chair themselves and he may be begging for mercy by now."

"Oh!" she scoffed swatting him before heading out the door at a very brisk walk to collect her children. The path through the market did not clear for her as it had for Thorin earlier but it was of little consequence. She wove between dwarves with a precision born of long practice and made it to Balin's office in next to no time. Despite wanting to charge right in and scoop her children into her arms and lay into Balin for allowing Kíli to stay, she paused outside the open door.

"No, laddie," she heard Balin say gently. "Not like that. Here, hold it more like _this_. Now try again." She poked her head around the door to see Balin standing over Kíli's shoulder and watching as her youngest held a quill in his tiny hand. She had to muffle a laugh at the look of intense concentration on his face and the way his tongue was poking out the corner of his mouth as he forced his hand to move along the vellum.

Balin caught the sound and looked up at her, raising an eyebrow in question. She shook her head and held her finger up to her lips to tell him to remain silent. She wanted to let Kíli and Fíli finish what they were doing, though she couldn't see her eldest from her position. Then, Balin's attention was pulled from her by a triumphant noise from Kíli. She saw the hope in his bright eyes as he looked up at Balin and her cousin's smile.

"Very good, lad," Balin praised. "Why don't you show it to your mother."

"Mama?" Kíli asked.

"She's at the door," Balin said. Dís smiled and stepped fully into the doorway, having just enough time to kneel before Kíli was flinging himself at her.

"I missed you," he said nuzzling her neck while she stroked his hair. She rubbed her own cheek on the top of his head, taking in the smell of clean dwarfling, as she knew that once she got him home he and Fíli would begin to play and that smell would disappear.

"It was only a couple of hours, Kíli," Dís said with a laugh pulling back to look at him. "Surely you can't have missed me yet."

"Does that mean you didn't miss me?" Kíli asked, his lower lip beginning to quiver.

"Of course not, you silly thing!" she said pulling him back against her and standing before sitting in the chair that Kíli had vacated and settling him in her lap. "Now, what was it that Balin told you to show me."

"I did it!" he said proudly, pressing the piece of vellum into her hands. She looked at it and saw that there, in careful, halting childish runes was his name. The sight of it made her smile but also made her a bit sad. Her baby was writing his own name.

"Do you know what it means?" she asked gently. She halfway hoped that he would say no. It was possible that he had just copied what Balin had written up above. Maybe Kíli was just duplicating without understanding what he had done. Her hopes were dashed when Kíli nodded eagerly, his braids flopping in his enthusiasm.

"It means me," he chirped.

"That it does," she said, trying to modulate her voice. "And it's well done, Kíli." She turned to find her eldest, surprised that he wasn't over in her lap as well, eager to show her what he had done that day. She saw him bent over his place at a table with a look of frustration on his face. With a sigh, she stood and set Kíli in the chair and pushed it back towards the desk.

"See if you can get Balin to show you something else," Dís said, explaining with her eyes that she was going to see to Fíli.

"Will you, Mr. Balin?" Kíli asked brightly.

"Of course, laddie," Balin said coming to stand behind Kíli and picking up the quill. "I know just the thing." As Balin began showing Kíli a new word, Dís walked over and wrapped her arms around Fíli, pressing a kiss to the top of his head before resting her chin there.

As soon as she had walked up, he had covered his paper with his arms and she could tell from his breathing that he was near tears. Dís felt tears prickle her own eyes at Fíli's sadness. She wondered if Thorin had upset him again before he was dropped off.

"I missed you today, Fíli," she said quietly. "Did you have a good time?" He nodded and sniffled. "Then why do you seem so upset, Darling?" He shook his head, unwilling to admit to his mother that he was failing miserably at this schooling thing. His uncle had been wrong. Fíli couldn't do this.

"You can tell me, Fíli," she promised.

"Can't," he muttered. "You'll be ashamed of me."

"Never," she promised. "I love you. Nothing can change that. Why are you upset?"

"I'm no good at this," Fíli replied. Hearing the same words, said in the same tone, from her son that she had heard from her broken brother only moments before was like a hot poker to her heart. Fíli was far too young to be so morose. Especially when it was just his first day. She could still remember how her first day had gone and judging by the state of the room this had been quite a bit better. She had been a bit of a brat when she was a child.

"I'm sure that's not true," Dís said, stroking his hair gently. "What makes you say that, sweetheart?" Fíli took a couple of deep breaths before he hastily shoved the vellum out from under him and buried his face in his arms.

"Look," he sobbed. "It . . . it's no good!" She looked at what he had trust at her with a critical eye. She couldn't see why he was so upset by this. The words were legible. Clear, neat. True, the hand was a bit unsure in places and there were a few smears and ink spots that weren't meant to be there, but it was a beautiful first effort. Miles better than her own had been.

"Fíli, this is wonderful, Son," she said pressing another kiss to his head.

"No it's not," he muttered. "It's horrible. Looks nothing like the one Mr. Balin gave me to look at."

"It shouldn't," she replied honestly. "Balin has been writing for longer than you have been alive, Fíli. How many times have you held a quill?"

"I don't know," he replied miserably.

"How many days?" she asked going for something a bit easier. Usually that last question was one that Fíli could have answered. Thorin was correct in saying that her son was intelligent, but clearly he was too upset by his perceived failure to answer it now.

"One," he replied looking up at her with sad blue eyes, the beginnings of hope in their sapphire depths.

"One, "she agreed. "You cannot expect to write as well as someone with a lifetime of practice, Fíli. The more you write the better you will become. It is like anything in the world, Fíli. It takes _time_ to develop skills. And you have all the time in the world, my precious son. This is a skill that can wait. If it frustrates you too much . . ."

"No, Mother," Fíli said. "I . . .I _want_ to learn. I want to be better." Dís nodded sadly. She would not discourage him from trying but she would continually remind him that this was his decision and no one else's.

"Are you ready to head back?" she asked petting his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, clearly sleepy. She hoped he wasn't too sleepy. Both he and Kíli might be a bit much for her to carry and Kíli was sure to be fussy about being made to walk. It was well past his usual nap time.

"Come on," she said lifting him and placing him on her hip, realizing as she did that she wouldn't be able to do this much longer. He was getting too big. He rested his head on her shoulder.

"Did I really do well, Mother?" he whispered. She smiled and rested her cheek on his head.

"You did wonderfully, darling," she replied. He gave a contented hum and snuggled deeper into her neck just as Kíli gave an excited squeal.

"Kíli!" she said, wincing at the shrillness of the noise. "Surely that's not necessary, dear."

"I don't mind, Dís," Balin replied with a laugh. "Your little one sure is energetic."

"That's one word for it," she muttered with a wry smile. "Come, let's get you home. I'm sure your uncle will _love_ to see what the two of you learned today." Kíli beamed at the prospect of showing Thorin what Balin had taught him and eagerly took her hand to be led out the door, practically bouncing.

"Um, Dís," Balin said as she was almost out the door. She stopped and turned back to see him looking at her anxiously. "Can I talk to you for a moment. Alone?" She nodded and sat Fíli down, kneeling to place a hand on both of their faces.

"There's an empty room next door," she said simply. "Go in there and wait for me. You can play if you'd like but do it _gently_ and don't break anything." They nodded their understanding and walked out of the room. She waited until she heard the neighboring door close before she turned back to Balin.

"Sit, Dís," he said gesturing to Kíli's chair. She sat, wondering what her cousin could possibly want.

"Ale?" he asked filling a mug for himself and offering her one. She shook her head and he sat down across from her with a sigh.

"Dís, this is none of my business, not really," Balin began, "but is everything alright at home?"

"What do you mean?" she asked breathlessly. It was one thing if she knew that her son and brother were having difficulties but for Balin to know it. . .

"Fíli," Balin said. "I didn't notice it yesterday when the lads were playing together but today . . . he's much too quiet and serious for a dwarfling his age. He grew so easily frustrated when he did not grasp things immediately. and Kíli . . . he seemed content with whatever he could manage. I understand that there are differences in children but . . . I don't think it can account for _this _ much variation. Not that I'm saying that you are mistreating Fíli," he added quickly seeing her dark stare. "I can tell that you aren't from how he interacts with you but . . . " Balin trailed off uncomfortably. He had come as close to the issue as he would. He had debated talking to her about this at all and refused to go as far as to accuse Thorin of harming the little ones. If he made the accusation and it was false . . . well, when word of it reached Thorin even their kinship would not spare him the king's rage. Children were a gift from the maker, to harm one . . . it was an affront to Mahal himself.

"Thorin's never put a hand on him," Dís said aggressively. "Not like you're implying. Thorin _loves_ _both_ of my children. And of course Fíli's more serious than Kíli. Kíli's never known loss. Not of _any_ kind. Fíli has. In case you've forgotten, Fíli was _there_ the night Víli died. He _heard_ his father's screams of pain as he slowly died. Kíli didn't have that experience. In fact, I think he thinks Thorin _is_ his father. But Fíli . . . he's _never_ believed that what he does is good enough. Never. And he's always been terrified of failure. We've tried to tell him that it's alright but . . . just . . . just be gentle with him. He needs reassurance, praise. He's just a bit insecure."

"If you're certain," Balin said, his expression making his skepticism clear. "You do know that—"

"Just stop," Dís said sharply. "I would know, Balin. I bathe them. If Fíli was being injured I would know. Thorin has _never_ laid a hand on him that way and he never will. So you just put that thought out of your head."

"Alright, Dís," Balin said, nodding and offering her a small smile. "I thought that was the case, I just had to make sure."

"Do you honestly think that I would allow something like that to happen?" Dís asked seriously. "When just last night you took an axe from me to keep me from killing him over sending them to _school_?"

"I just had to be sure, Dís," Balin repeated. "I'd . . . um . . . I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention this conversation to Thorin, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind," she replied. "He would be _devastated_ that you could think so little of him. I would never do anything to hurt him like that. Not when it will _never_ happen again." He heard the hint of threat in her final words and was reminded again that she was his king's sister and had the same regal blood in her veins as he did. Dís didn't often radiate power like Thorin did but when she did, it was quite impressive.

"It will not happen again, Dís. I swear it," Balin promised. "I won't accuse Thorin of harming your son again. Even indirectly." She nodded, satisfied and the hardness faded to be replaced by a warm smile.

"In that case, I'll take my boys home," she said standing. "Thank you again for putting up with them."

"They are welcome here any day they would like to come," Balin assured her as he walked her to the door and closed it behind her.

"You may regret that," she said with a laugh before walking away and collecting her children from the next room over. Balin watched until she came out with Kíli on one hip and Fíli on the other.

"Would you like a bit of help?" he offered. "I can carry one of them." Dís shook her head, still angry with her cousin for what he had implied about her brother and feeling unreasonably reluctant to hand him one of her sons, needing to hold them to reassure herself. He nodded and watched until she had passed through the front door before he turned and went back to his study and straightened up from their lessons. He wondered if he would be seeing them the next day.

**ooOO88OOoo**

**Well, that's it for this chapter folks. I hope that you enjoyed more feisty!Dís. That said, I would love to know what you though!**

**Stickdonkeys**


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